


We have enemies in common so let's join forces

by crushing83



Series: Bullets and Blades [9]
Category: Fast and the Furious Series, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bard is reincarnated, Bard lives many lives, Crossover, M/M, Modern AU, Owen having strange dreams, Reincarnation, Reincarnation AU, Thranduil considering a life of crime, a member of Owen's team is an elf, bad things happen to elves, happens a few years before Fast & Furious 6, mentions of Carter Verone, playing it fast and loose with Tolkien's mythology, poor use of elvish, pre-Furious 6, somehow Thranduil finds him every time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-05-16 12:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5828221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crushing83/pseuds/crushing83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil joins Owen's team for a job in Argentina.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil arrives in Argentina, to officially join Owen's team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never been to Argentina. I did do some research via Google, but if you've been there and there's something I screwed up... please let me know so I can make some adjustments! 
> 
> Also, I'm still on the fence about the new elf's name. I've been given advice to change it, but the name I originally chose has a soft spot in my heart despite it being a mouthful and I'm reluctant to change it. I hope that doesn't ruin this for you when it comes to that point. 
> 
> Thanks for giving this story a try!

As he stepped out of Ministro Pistarini International Airport, Thranduil slipped his sunglasses down in front of his eyes. He tugged his small suitcase along behind him and looked around at his new surroundings. People were bustling in and out of cabs and personal vehicles, paying him little attention. He was glad he wasn't drawing any attention from other travellers; he'd caught a few strange looks at his stopover in New York and he hadn't enjoyed the attention. It had made him uneasy and he'd spent his few hours between flights tucked away in the back of a crowded café instead of the private lounge his executive-class ticket afforded him. 

He tugged off his jacket. It was cooler than he expected, but the sun was out and it was still much warmer that it was at home; since Owen had informed him the weather could be a bit unpredictable in the country's autumn season, he was glad for the mild temperature. Savouring the moment and the sunlight, he tipped his head back to let the warmth settle on his face. 

Joining Owen's team hadn't been a quick event. He'd had to make plans to close his archery school, finishing his classes for the spring term; after that, Owen insisted on putting him through some training before he was allowed to flounce off to try his hand at being a full-time criminal. Before going to Buenos Aires ahead of everyone, Owen taught Thranduil how to fire a fun, how to drive (better), and how to work a lot of the tools and equipment he would need to use proficiently to be a useful team member. 

Thranduil thought he'd resent the lessons, as he'd lived longer than Owen could imagine and done things Owen could not imagine, but the opposite had happened. Thranduil felt excited with every lesson Owen taught him; he absorbed the knowledge easily, committed it to memory, and found his excitement couldn't be smothered out of his existence. 

For the first time in _years_ , he was doing something new---and it was a wonderful feeling. 

"May I take your bag, sir?" 

Thranduil recognised that voice. Upon registering Owen's lilting accent, so close after weeks of phone calls, he grinned and turned his head towards its sound. 

"I don't know," Thranduil replied. "You look like the unsavoury sort." 

After a snort, Owen reached out and slipped his arm around Thranduil's waist. He pulled Thranduil close. Thranduil, in response, hugged his free arm around Owen's shoulders and kissed his cheeks. 

"You missed," Owen said. 

Smirking, Thranduil kissed Owen on the mouth. Owen rumbled against him; his grip on Thranduil's waist tightened. They stood there for a few minutes, exchanging kisses until they stilled and rested against each other. Thranduil savoured the closeness; Owen had been away for a few weeks and he'd missed Owen's presence in his world. 

"Good flight?" Owen asked in a whispering voice. 

"Fine, I guess. No problems with security or customs," Thranduil replied. "I drew a bit of attention in New York, but overall, it was fine." 

"What happened in New York?"

"Got some funny looks," Thranduil said. 

"From airport security or..." 

Thranduil shrugged. "Other passengers. Maybe they noticed my ears. Who knows." 

"Or maybe you're just gorgeous," Owen teased. He pulled back enough to give Thranduil a serious look. "You didn't recognise any of them?"

"No," Thranduil whispered. 

"Good. Let's get out of here, all right?" Owen suggested. When Thranduil nodded, he eased the suitcase handle from Thranduil's grip and guided the elf to his idling vehicle at the curb. "I have your gear at the safe house," he added. "It's all waiting for you to inspect." 

Nodding again, Thranduil watched Owen put the suitcase into the back of the sport-utility vehicle and then come around to the passenger side. Owen opened the door for him and he slipped into the seat, sparing a thought at how strange it was to be on the right side of the vehicle and not be behind the steering wheel, but then Owen was joining him and smiling at him and his thoughts focused on a more pleasurable subject. 

"This is a business trip," Owen commented, lips twitching into a smirk. 

Thranduil huffed. "No fair. You've been gone for weeks." 

Reaching over the centre console, Owen squeezed his hand. "I missed you, too," he murmured. "We're scheduled to leave last, so we'll have some time for just us after the op." 

"Really?"

Smiling, Owen nodded. "You said you'd never been to Argentina," he said. "A couple of days isn't really enough, but I thought I could show you some of the sights after the team's gone." 

"If we aren't caught or chased out of the country," Thranduil said. 

Owen laughed. "Good point, but it shouldn't come to that if we plan accordingly." 

Thranduil nodded. Turning his attention back to the traffic, Owen shifted the car into gear and merged into the current of cars leaving the arrivals' terminal. Thranduil watched him navigate the roadways, merging with the outbound flow, and he settled back in his seat. He watched the sights through the windshield, finding the different architectural styles almost comforting; they reminded him of several European cities, each a little piece of the region he considered home. Losing himself in thinking about nothing in particular, he startled when he felt Owen's hand on his leg. 

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" Owen asked. 

"Just... taking it all in," he said. 

Another few minutes passed before Thranduil spoke again. "How long are we here?" he asked. "You never said what the plan is in any of your calls." 

"We won't be here for long," Owen said. "Verone's lawyers got in touch, asked us to pick up a few things from his compound. A couple of cars, some computer equipment, and some valuables. We'll be here as long as it takes to scout the property and put together a strategy to get in and out. I suspect it'll be two weeks, give or take a day." 

"Lawyers?" Thranduil asked. 

Nodding, Owen replied, "Verone got pinched. He won't be behind bars for long, I bet, but there are some items he'd prefer did not become property of other parties." 

"And they couldn't just ask whoever's maintaining the property to put them in a shipping container." 

Owen chuckled. "No," he said, "because if they think he's not coming back then they'd likely assume those trinkets could become theirs." 

Thranduil nodded. He didn't know much about this client. He'd heard Owen talking to Deckard about someone named Carter Verone and he knew the man was someone in the Shaw brothers' web. He also knew Owen had an arrangement with someone in or near Los Angeles, someone named Braga, and he and Deckard seemed pleased with that arrangement; whoever Verone was, he wasn't as important to Owen as Braga was, but he seemed to be worth the risk to his team. 

"Do you do much business for Verone?" Thranduil asked. 

"Only the occasional job," Owen said. "He's based in Miami, so he's been useful to me when we have business out his way. But, really, he's a little too unpredictable for my tastes." He shifted gears, switched lanes, and turned onto a less congested street. At the next set of lights, he glanced at Thranduil. "All of this, you keep to yourself," he said. 

"I know," Thranduil murmured. "I won't share what you tell me with the others." 

Smiling at Thranduil before turning his attention back to the drive, Owen said, "I have to say, I don't know if I like the idea of you and Vegh meeting." 

Thranduil chuckled. "If we're as alike as you think, there's a good chance we won't get along," he said. 

Owen shook his head. "Nah, I suspect you two will be as thick as thieves as soon as you meet," he said. "Klaus, Adolfson, and Denlinger might not be wild about me bringing someone else in... they're the territorial sort. Oakes... he's an ass, but generally easy to deal with. Ivory will be fine---never met a more agreeable chap in our line of work. But you and Vegh will hit it off, no doubt about it." 

With a nod, Thranduil filed those words away and turned his attention to the artisanal neighbourhood they'd entered. Owen drove behind what Thranduil would have guessed was a small apartment building. Other vehicles, mainly of the fast variety, were parked in the back, too, but apart from that sight the building seemed unused. It wasn't until they'd parked and Thranduil spotted the security cameras. The safe house looked both unassuming and well-protected; he hoped it would be a safe haven while they prepared for the job. 

"Home sweet home," Owen said, unfastening his seatbelt. 

Following his lead, Thranduil unhooked himself and exited the car. He paused to grab his suitcase and caught up to Owen by the time he reached the porch. 

When they stepped into the house Owen pointed at the foot of a large staircase. "Leave it there, I'll show you where to stow it later," he said. "I'll show you where you'll be doing some work, first, if you're up to it." 

"Of course," Thranduil said. 

He left his luggage behind and followed Owen into a large sitting room. Furniture, covered in drop-cloths, was pushed to the walls to make room for desks, crates, chairs, and computer equipment. Oakes, Adolsfon, and Ivory (he guessed, from all the information Owen had ever shared with him) were working at various stations; when Owen and Thranduil entered the room, they stopped what they were doing to look at Thranduil. He had the distinct impression he was being judged and he did not particularly care for it. 

"Where are the others?" Owen asked. 

"Gone getting supplies," Oakes said. 

Owen nodded. Then, he gestured at Thranduil. "This is Kendall," he said, "and he's going to be working with us this time." 

"The second watch position?" Adolfson asked. 

Owen nodded. 

"He's the bloke you had on the DSS job," Oakes said. 

"He is," Owen said. He shrugged off his jacket and draped it over a chair. Facing the three men, he looked each one in the eye. "Any problems?" 

Adolfson and Oakes shook their heads as Ivory stepped forward and introduced himself to Thranduil. Catching sight of Owen's smirk, Thranduil greeted Ivory. When they were finished with what passed for small talk between criminals, Owen waved to get Thranduil's attention. 

"You'll use this terminal. Anything you need, just look it up," Owen said when Thranduil was close to him again. He lowered his voice when he resumed speaking. "If a restricted access notice pops up, you type in your proper given name in the password prompt. No surname. All lowercase." 

Looking into Owen's eyes, Thranduil risked a small smile. He knew the gesture meant Owen trusted him, professionally as well as personally, and it warmed his heart to be included in that small circle, too. Owen nodded but didn't react any other way. Thranduil took the seat in front of the computer, and Owen sat down in the chair next to him; together, they went through the rudimentary mission specifications and the information gathered. 

"You'll have to pick a point for the second watch location," Owen said when they'd finished. "Look at the maps and photographs, figure out where you want to set up. We'll scout out your top choices tonight or tomorrow, depending on what Vegh has left to do." 

"Puttin' the pretty blonds together, huh, Shaw?" Oakes barked from his position over some sort of weapon launcher. 

Owen rolled his eyes. The gesture was lost on Oakes, who couldn't see anything but the back of Owen's head. When he spoke, though, his voice was clearly heard by everyone in the room. "I'd send you with him instead, but I doubt you'd make it back in one piece," Owen said. 

"Looks like he can't even hurt a---"

Not wasting a second to express his annoyance, Thranduil picked up the closest object least likely to be of value---a pink eraser---and threw it at Oakes' head. It flew through the air on a clean and quick trajectory and struck him between his eyes. Taking satisfaction from the way Oakes staggered back over a chair before tripping and landing on the floor with a solid _thump_ , Thranduil smirked at Adolfson and Ivory before returning to his work. 

Owen chuckled. After a squeeze to Thranduil's shoulder, he stood up and helped Oakes back on his feet. 

"Maybe you should put some ice on that, mate," he told Oakes. 

"I'll get you back for that, you prissy---"

"I wouldn't if I were you," Owen said. 

Oakes growled wordlessly and stomped out of the room. Having watched the dispute unfold in silence, Ivory snorted before returning to his work. Adolfson studied Thranduil for a moment, his eyes narrowed, before he, too, resumed whatever it was he was doing before Oakes tested the waters surrounding their newest teammate. 

After sharing a brief and amused look with Owen, Thranduil turned his attention to the map on his computer screen. He'd easily memorised the layout of the neighbourhood they'd be infiltrating, but he wanted to look like he was doing something useful. Lounging back with his eyes closed might present the wrong image to the other men, so he continued to look over the provided information. He estimated travel times to and from various locations and even though he could remember the numbers he jotted them down on a nearby pad of paper. 

When he couldn't pretend to be working any longer, he stood up. He stretched his arms above his head, rolling his shoulders a little, and sauntered over the the crate of equipment with Kendall's name on it. Aware that Ivory and Adolfson were watching him (but caring little for their attention), he flicked open the fastenings on the crate and lifted the lid so he could peer inside. A series of bows---simple in design and chosen to match his specifications---were resting in a rack, nestled with packing peanuts. None of them were strung, but he could see a package of various types of cord tucked into one of the corners. 

He lifted the first bow and tested its flexibility. He smiled; it was just what he preferred, unyielding unless one could apply the required strength. 

"If there's something else you'd prefer," Ivory said before he could reach for the second bow, "just let me know and I'll see what I can do." 

"Thank you, Ivory," Thranduil murmured. He had the second bow in his hands with a quick switch and took his time running his fingers along its structure. "I think I will find something here. You obtained these for me?"

"Shaw gave me a list." 

Glancing from him to Owen, Thranduil smiled. "They'll do." 

The sound of vehicles driving into the small parking lot reached his ears; he looked at Owen again as he set the bow back into its spot in the crate. Owen stood up when the engines were turned off; he seemed to be preparing to greet the rest of the team. 

Thranduil wanted to keep his attention on Owen---he loathed focusing on anyone else, to be honest---but when he felt the _thrill_ of elvish power nearing the building, he turned his attention to the doorway, too. There was another elf coming. There was another of his kind on Owen's team. Did Owen make another new hire for that mission? Did Thranduil know them? Would they get along? Would Thranduil's secret be revealed to Owen? Did Owen know---

Thranduil's mind spun with the possibilities. 

And then two men and a woman walked into the room and Thranduil saw her and he had to steel himself against the impulse to rush to her. 

_"Hîr vuin!"_

Owen (and everyone else in the room) stopped what they were doing and stared at the woman who Thranduil assumed was Vegh. Her grey eyes were wide and her body was rigid with surprise; she hadn't known he was alive, obviously, and she was having difficulty hiding her reaction to the shock of having her former king standing in their hideout. 

Smiling, Thranduil brought his hand to his heart and bowed his head. She did the same, after giving herself a slight shake. 

"Velossfaeniel," he whispered as he approached her, "I thought... I thought you were gone."

Vegh shook her head. Thranduil reached out and touched her arm; it was a bold gesture, something he'd only ever risk with Tauriel, but he needed to feel her and know she was really standing before him. Vegh allowed the contact and squeezed his hand when their fingers brushed. 

She'd been one of the few in his court nearly as old as he was. She'd come to him from Lothlórien after a long time away; she'd taken the time to travel to their kin in other kingdoms, to learn how to make fine blades, and her craftsmanship was bested only by her skill at wielding the blades she made. After studying various styles of fighting, she'd taught his Silvan guard how to fight in close quarters. She'd done all of that to spite her parents, who felt she should be as delicate as her name, and she'd been an excellent captain of his guard before Tauriel had taken over the position at her insistence. 

"Another friend?" 

Turning towards Owen, Thranduil smiled. "Yes," he replied. "I did not know this was the woman you spoke of... it is a wonderful surprise." 

"Another friend?" Vegh echoed. 

Thranduil smirked at her. "He has met your successor."

"Oh!" Vegh grinned. "Will she be joining us?" 

Shaking his head, though still smiling, Thranduil said, "She is off on her own mission." 

"That's a shame. I haven't seen her in a long time," Vegh said. 

She looked from Owen to Thranduil, and Thranduil could almost see the questions in her mind as clearly as he could the ones forming in his own mind. He wondered what brought her to Owen's attention and what convinced Vegh to stay by his side; she'd never been close to Bard, as after the battles in Erebor and Dale she'd set out into the wilderness to give her heart and soul time to heal. Was it familiarity? Did she even see a resemblance between the two men? Or, was Owen such a remarkable criminal that the best work was with him? 

One glance at Owen persuaded Thranduil to put aside his questions. Tilting his head towards Owen, he bowed his head slightly; Owen nodded at him before he looked at Vegh. He requested she be available in a few minutes to take Thranduil to Verone's compound so he could see what they'd be infiltrating. When she agreed to the plan, Owen motioned towards the doorway. Taking that as his cue to leave, Thranduil set off, pausing only to grab his luggage, with Owen at his heels. 

Owen waited until they'd ascended to the next floor before speaking, and even then it was only to point out which rooms were Ivory's and Vegh's before telling Thranduil that Owen's room was at the end of the hall with Thranduil's across the corridor from him. 

After they entered Thranduil's room, the elf went to the bed to set down his luggage while the man closed and locked the door. The room was functional, though barely furnished; a few camping lamps were set up around the room, but Thranduil noticed that he had a large window and knew it would provide enough light for him to see by in darker hours. 

"Anything that needs charging, you'd better do that downstairs," Owen said as he came up behind Thranduil. He put his hands on Thranduil's hips, squeezing gently. "We've got power, but the building's wiring is pretty old, so---"

"It's fine, Owen," Thranduil murmured, cutting across his words. 

"You didn't tell me you knew her." 

Thranduil turned in Owen's gentle grip. "I did not know I knew her," he whispered. "Honestly, Owen. If I had known, I would have told you." 

Nodding, Owen smiled a little. "What don't I know about her?" 

"Plenty, I imagine," Thranduil said, fighting to keep a smirk at bay. "She is responsible for much of Tauriel's training. She is... very good," he said. "I trusted her to do her job, and she never disappointed me. I suspect, if she follows you willingly, you will never regret having her at your side." 

Owen smiled a bit. "I haven't yet." 

"Good. How did you find her?" 

"She was in art theft. We'd crossed paths before, but it wasn't until I needed her expertise with a specific security system that I brought her in. She asked me to call her the next time I had work. She's the first one I call now." 

When Owen frowned, Thranduil put his hands upon Owen's chest. After a few quiet moments, where the only sounds between them were their breathing, Owen asked: "Is she only working for me because I remind her of this Bard guy you all knew?" 

"No," the elf murmured. He slid one hand up to Owen's jaw and traced over the strong line there with his fingertips. "She would judge you on your own merits. She was not close to Bard. She knew of him, but she did not know him as Tauriel did." 

Owen nodded. 

"Does it bother you that I know her?" Thranduil asked. 

"No... no. It's a small world and good employees are hard to find," Owen replied. He shrugged. "It's weird, though. She never reminded me of you, except in the way you two often agree upon strategies, but now, after seeing you side by side... I can see so many similarities. You move the same. You speak in the same patterns. You share a similar... manner. I didn't notice it before." 

"We grew up in the same environment, more or less." 

"Right," Owen said, a smile in his voice. Thranduil waited for a comment about his being raised in a cult, but it never came. Instead, Owen gently squeezed his hips. "What did she call you? I remember Tauriel calling you that, too, once or twice..." 

Thranduil brushed his fingers over Owen's shoulder. "It's a title of respect," he replied. "It is unnecessary, but they still... honour me in that way." 

"You deserve to be honoured," Owen murmured, before he leaned in and kissed Thranduil. After a few brushing touches of lips, Owen leaned in more; he brought their foreheads together and closed his eyes. "It isn't a problem, you two knowing each other," he said. 

"Good." 

"And now I know you two will work well together." 

"Probably, yes." 

Owen reached up and cupped his hand around the side of Thranduil's neck. "The others will have questions, but you don't have to answer them," he said quietly. "Take some time while you're out, and catch up with her, if it will help. I want you to reconnect with your old life." 

"What if I'd rather reconnect with you?" 

Owen chuckled and lifted his head. "We can do that tonight---quietly." 

"That's disappointing," the elf murmured. "I wanted to make you scream." 

Owen smirked. "When the job's over and the others have gone," he stipulated, "we'll see who makes who scream."

&&&

"Does Shaw know what we are?" was the first question Velossfaeniel asked as soon as they were alone in her car, driving towards the area surrounding their target.

Thranduil shook his head. "No."

"I thought it was coincidence, like with the others, that he looked like the Dragonslayer," she mused. "But, now that you're here, I am doubting that." 

"The others?" 

"Every few years, I run into someone who resembles... someone else. I could have sworn I saw the face of the King of Gondor once. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. Other men and women, too, have reappeared through time, but no other races." 

"No word of the Ents or Skinchangers?" Thranduil asked quietly. "Hobbits or Dwarves?" 

Tauriel hadn't heard anything of other races, so he doubted their existence, but he still wanted to check. 

"What great tree could have survived this long? With man's desire to reshape and destroy? When we are not as numerous, not as likely to speak to them?" the female elf shot back. She sighed. "It is such a barren place, now, my lord. It pains my heart, and I was not inclined towards nature's pursuits." 

Personally, Thranduil agreed with her; however, he could not deny that he hoped they slumbered, somewhere, undamaged by the industrial revolution that had taken over the world. 

"There had been only one Skinchanger for so long... I doubt the race endured," she said. "There have been rumours, of course. So when werewolves became popular in sensationalist literature, I'd gone off in an attempt to encounter one." 

Thranduil smiled. "Of course you did." 

Vegh smirked. "I wanted adventure. Female life was so dull then." 

He chuckled. Then, he asked: "No word of Hobbits? Dwarves?" 

"I thought I had met a hobbit once, a few centuries ago," Vegh replied, "though I could not prove it. She was cagey. I do not think she would have admitted her race even after I admitted mine---which I was not inclined to do. 

"And the Dwarves are long gone, surely," she continued, "although it would not surprise me if someone cracks open a mountain and finds a small clan of them, drunk, armed, and spoiling for a war." 

Thranduil snorted. 

"If you don't mind me asking..." 

"Go ahead." 

"How did Owen come to hire you?" 

Thranduil wanted to tell her the truth, but he knew he had to stick to the cover story he and Owen had concocted. So, he told her about Owen approaching him when he was an archery instructor, about doing small jobs for him, and then about Owen deciding to hire him for the team when Deckard became too interested in his alias. 

"Deckard's an interesting character." 

Thranduil chuckled. "Yes," he agreed. He turned to look at Velossfaeniel as she drove. "Have you spoken with Tauriel recently?" 

"Not since... well, no. It's been roughly fifty years since we last crossed paths." 

"So you know nothing of what has been happening?" 

The female elf shook her head. "No, I am aware of the hunts. I was nearly caught twice in the last ten years, but I've managed to stay free." 

"The groups after the elves have been experimenting. Adding our blood to human subjects," he admitted. "Tauriel has been looking into it for me." 

"Wonderful," Vegh muttered. "Tulcadhiel did not tell me that." 

"I suppose she did not want to burden you with the awful details," he said quietly, even as he smiled at the memory of one of the kingdom's administrators. "Who else remained?" he asked. "Last I heard, you and she were off with Tirithon and Urúvion, heading West." 

"Urúvion is the only one that sailed," she told him. "He was the one that felt the call of the sea, and the rest of us... well, we were all so close that we went with him. Tulcadhiel hoped to feel it, and to be honest, part of me did as well. Tirithon never admitted why he journeyed with us, but later he said he felt darkness would return and he could not leave it to Men to face alone." 

"Where are they now?" 

"Tulcadhiel is currently on the run. I know she is in frequent contact with Tauriel. Tirithon is working with an environmental group. I think they are in the South Pacific somewhere," she said as she turned the car into a more quiet neighbourhood with bigger houses on larger properties. "He likes the work. Says it allows him to travel quietly, and survey wider areas." 

"He was always so serious," Thranduil commented. 

Vegh smiled in agreement. Then, Thranduil watched as her smile took on a more mischievous glint. 

"You know I do not believe your story about Owen, yes?" 

Thranduil laughed a little. "It is the story we are presenting to the team." 

"You are lovers." 

"Yes," the former Elvenking admitted. "Bard has been reincarnated many times." 

"Does he remember?" 

"The others have not," Thranduil replied. "Owen... I am not sure. He says things that make me wonder." 

"Interesting." 

"He thinks we lived in a cult," the male elf continued. "He is sure my father set up some sort of secluded fortress in the forest. He does not understand why the military groups are after us, though. I told him there is something in our genetics they want to study and manipulate, but the more it is discussed, the more I doubt he believes it is the whole truth." 

"Which is why you suspect you have to tell him." 

Thranduil nodded. 

Vegh sighed. "I do not envy your situation, my lord." 

Thranduil snorted. "Well, I suppose if he does not have me committed or just shoot me on sight for lying this whole time, then I will have to consider it a success." 

She smiled a bit. "If he feels for you even a fraction of what you shared with the Dragonslayer, then you will not have to worry about him shooting you." 

"I hope you are right." 

"And, if... well, I would appreciate if you can refrain from outing me," she said. "Unless it is necessary, obviously. I do not want him to consider me an object to be traded." 

"I do understand your concern, though I suspect he will make the connection between us to that conclusion. Owen would not trade you. He would be more likely to keep you for his advantage. Still, I will do my best to protect your truth," Thranduil said in reply. After Vegh nodded in acceptance, he added: "And I would appreciate if you do not reveal my existence to Tirithon and Tulcadhiel, in return." 

"Certainly. But... why?" 

"Tauriel is more of a leader to those who try to keep others safe," he said, "but she is concerned that if any of them are tortured, they may divulge that I am alive. And she fears the military groups will focus their attentions on locating me." 

Vegh sighed. "Good point." 

"I want to fight. I want to save our people. But, I am no good to the cause if I am being hunted at every turn because they think I might have more power or new abilities to be tested." 

She nodded. "I will keep your secret, my lord." 

"Thank you. And if you could refrain from calling me that, I would appreciate it. I suspect the others will ask questions if you continue that habit." 

Vegh chuckled. "Fine. Should I call you Kendall?" 

"In front of them, yes. When it is just us, 'Thranduil' will suffice." 

"Thank you," she murmured. 

Thranduil restrained the urge to roll his eyes. "I am no longer king, Velossfaeniel." 

"I may work for Shaw, but you will always be my king." 

The loyalty she showed warmed his heart. He smiled, but said nothing. It had been a long time since he had worn his crown, but she and Tauriel had acted like that time passing hadn't mattered. Tauriel's attitude had softened towards him, probably because they had seen each other through more profound experiences, but she still wanted to protect him. He suspected with Velossfaeniel, or Vegh as he was trying to think of her, something similar would happen if they had enough time to work past their king-and-guard relationship. 

The female elf parked the car in front of what looked like a public garden. She grabbed a messenger bag from the backseat. 

"We'll walk the rest of the way," she announced. 

Thranduil nodded. He slipped out of the car and fell into step beside her. He wasn't carrying a bag, but he had his phone to take photographs, and between the two of them he supposed they looked enough like innocent visitors to avoid rousing suspicion in the neighbours. 

Vegh took him through the garden and across another street. She gestured to the property they would be infiltrating and he recognised it from Adolfson's photos, once he put their perspective into consideration. 

"It has minimal security, but they're efficient," she said. "We tested them. Paid a few kids to kick a soccer ball over the fence one night. It didn't take them long to react." 

"It stands out," Thranduil commented. "The others do not have fences so high or as many security cameras." 

"There are motion sensors, too." 

"Lovely," he muttered as he looked around the area. "Adolfson is taking the position at the top of the hill?" 

"Yes," she said, gesturing to the hill in behind the property, where other buildings were located. 

Thranduil caught sight of a large house across the road from Verone's property. He studied the trees around it and its roof. It would not be difficult to climb to the top of the structure, he decided, and that point of view would be much more useful as it would give him a line of sight that would encompass the front and some of the side of the house they were going to be infiltrating. It would even let him see the garages. 

"Who lives across the street?" 

"A politician. Medium security. No motion sensors, though," she said. 

He nodded. "That will be my viewpoint." 

"Then, we better get the specs on it," she decided. "Let's walk past it and then around the back, to see if we can get some information to return with." 

Thranduil followed her lead, but kept watch for himself. He took mental notes on distances between cameras, on which windows would be most problematic, and on his path to the house. She took photographs when she could; after explaining that she knew what Owen would look for to make a decision, Thranduil knew he should trust her instincts as she knew Owen better on a professional level. 

When they were finished, they went back to the car. Vegh tossed him the car keys. 

"You want me to drive your car?" 

She grinned. "You will need to know how to get from home base to here and back again," she said. "If you screw up with one of the others, you'll never hear the end of it. I won't tell a soul if you get lost." 

Thranduil arched an eyebrow. "There will be nothing to tell." 

Vegh laughed.

&&&

He only took one wrong turn, but he recognised the mistake and was able to correct it with a detour along a parallel street before Vegh could give him directions.

They returned to the safe house in good spirits. After stepping into the main room, they saw that dinner had been purchased; Owen had ordered a salad for both Thranduil and Vegh, and they thanked him as they sat down. Chatter about work was kept to a minimum as they ate. Ivory asked Thranduil a few questions about his job as an archery teacher, and he answered them as honestly as he could while ignoring Oakes' jabs about a criminal teaching children. 

Once the detritus from the meal was cleared away, Owen's focus returned. He nudged Thranduil's shoulder with his own. 

"What did you decide?" he asked quietly. 

"The house across the street is my best bet," Thranduil replied. "Its roof will provide a view of the front of the house and the garages." 

"You can climb up there?" 

He nodded. Vegh stepped forward and put the data card from her camera on the desk. 

"There are no pressure pads or motion sensors, from what we can tell," she said. "Kendall has a path marked from the wooded area of the property to the house. We have the name of the company that set up the system and will look into it tomorrow, if you can spare us." 

Owen nodded. "Good. Take Ivory. Let me know what you learn." 

Adolfson scoffed. "And you'll let him break into the house? Think the owner will just let you onto his roof, Kendall?" 

Turning quickly, Thranduil glared at the sniper. "I will climb the house. The owner will never know I'm there." 

Owen chuckled. "Yeah, alright. We'll do a test run, to be sure, but I suspect there won't be a problem." 

"Seriously?" Adolfson asked. 

"He's good at climbing buildings," Owen said. "And I trust his judgement." 

Adolfson looked like he wanted to argue, but a look from Denlinger quieted him. He sulked as he went back to work, cleaning his rifle and associated equipment. Eventually, his tension broke, as Klaus teased him about something sports-related that Thranduil didn't understand. 

When the elf glanced at Owen, the man smiled at him. He smiled back before turning his attention to the map in front of him. 

"Don't stay up too late, guys," Owen said to them. "We start early tomorrow. We'll do the drive before the morning rush, then re-evaluate our routes, and try it again at night."

He left the room. 

Since he knew better than to follow straight away, Thranduil settled down with Vegh and Ivory to make a plan to get the security information they needed. Once their plan was made, though, Thranduil saw no reason to remain in the room with the others. They seemed to be settling in to watch a sporting event on one of the computers; Thranduil had no desire to stay and watch it with them. He excused himself politely and made a beeline for the stairs. 

He went to his room, hoping that the building had hot water for a shower, but wasn't able to do much more than that as Owen was inside the same room and pounced upon him as soon as he'd closed the door. 

"God, love," Owen muttered between kisses, "you are so hot when you're breaking the law." 

Thranduil snorted but returned every kiss on offer with one of his own. When Owen scooped him up, he wrapped his arms and legs around his body and held onto him. 

"You like bad boys," Thranduil commented. 

"I like turning one boy in particular bad." 

"I'm fairly certain I was wretched before you found me," the elf shot back, his voice dropping to a whisper with every word. 

Owen smirked. He leaned in and scraped his teeth over the curve of Thranduil's jaw. "Not like this... not showing up my sniper, finding a better perch than he found, somewhere that's harder to get to..." Owen said in a low voice. "That was incredibly attractive, you know." 

"I can tell you're affected." 

The man's smirk turned into a wolfish grin. "You think you can be quiet?" 

"Can you?" the elf asked in reply. 

"I am definitely motivated to try." 

Thranduil chuckled until Owen sucked on his lower lip. Their next kiss was messier, tongue chasing tongue, teeth sometimes clashing, lips loose and pliant, and what it lost in finesse it made up for with passion. Thranduil imagined that Owen needed an outlet after all the planning, a moment to just feel, and he delighted in being able to share that with him. 

They ended up on the bed after a few minutes of kissing against the wall. Owen pulled Thranduil on top of him; Thranduil wriggled, providing friction that made Owen groan. 

"Shhhh," the elf whispered, even though the sound had been fairly quiet. 

Owen growled and kissed him. He brought a hand up and rubbed one of Thranduil's ears; the blond elf twitched against him and swallowed the whine that wanted to escape. 

Thranduil sat up, pulling himself free of Owen's wandering hands, and tugged his long-sleeved shirt off. He tossed it over his shoulder; he was rewarded for his efforts with a few long sweeps of one of those hands, from collarbone to belly. 

"You are... beautiful." 

Those words always made him blush. Thranduil's self-image was still damaged by the scars of the past, of wrath and ruin. He'd been told he was more than a pretty face, by Bard, who felt his beauty was soul deep; ever since then, whether his scars were visible or not, any compliment on his appearance from a reincarnation touched his heart and warmed his cheeks. 

"You still don't believe me?" Owen whispered. 

"I... I believe you see me that way," Thranduil breathed. "I just... you honour me. I..." 

"Shhh," Owen whispered when he trailed off. "I will always find you beautiful. Beautiful and dangerous and perfect for me." 

Thranduil bit his lip and nodded. He leaned down to brush Owen's nose with his. 

"You are perfect for me, too," the elf murmured. "You have no idea---"

"I do. An inkling, anyway," Owen interrupted. 

A brush of fingers against his ear had Thranduil shuddering against Owen's body. The man smirked and repeated his actions; Thranduil rolled his hips in response. 

After a bit more teasing, Owen eased Thranduil off of him and they started tugging off each other's clothing. Garments flew around the room until they were both naked, pausing only so Owen could grab a small tube of lubricant out of his trousers' pocket. Without prompting, Thranduil turned and positioned himself on his hands and knees. Owen groaned a bit as he watched the elf move, but he didn't let the sight distract him into inactivity. He moved quickly, stretching and preparing Thranduil with efficiency; each slide of slippery fingers made Thranduil shiver and crave more. 

"Ready?" Owen asked, as he pulled his fingers free. 

Thranduil nodded. His long hair fell down over his shoulders, but Owen scooped it back and held onto it with one hand. He kept his grip as he used his other hand to line himself up and prepare for joining their bodies together. 

Owen started slowly but he quickly hurried his pace. Within minutes, as soon as Thranduil whispered insistent words, he he was snapping his hips forward with a considerable amount of force. Thranduil wriggled back against him; Owen answered his unspoken demand with three more quick jabs. He continued that pace after a deep breath and Thranduil found himself panting in desperation as the passion they'd been teasing burned though him. 

"Yessss," Thranduil hissed. 

The man behind him grunted. A moment later, he was pulling on Thranduil's hair; he arched his back and tipped his head, giving into the tugs of Owen's hand. But when the tugging became more pronounced, Thranduil pushed himself off of his hands and ended up back against Owen's body, straddling his lap. 

The elf rode his lover until his thighs burned. Owen released his hair and ended up with his arms around Thranduil's body. Every time he thrust up, he pulled Thranduil down; every time Thranduil raised himself, he dropped his hips but managed to supportthem both so they remained balanced. 

When Owen wrapped his hand around Thranduil's erection, the blond's rhythm faltered. 

"Tiring, elf?" 

"Hardly," Thranduil growled. 

Owen chuckled into his hair. He stroked the elf with purpose, holding him through every shudder that vibrated through Thranduil's body. 

When Thranduil climaxed, he thrust a bit harder and stroked a bit more firmly until it was over and the elf was nearly boneless against him. Then, he grabbed Thranduil's hips in both of his hands and pumped his own a few times until he was groaning into his elf's neck. 

Thranduil felt his release, felt it leaking out of him and onto Owen. Shivering slightly, he let Owen move him until they were facing each other, and then he wrapped his arms around Owen's shoulders. 

"I needed that," he whispered. 

Owen chuckled. "Me, too," he whispered back. 

They eased apart long enough to stretch out on the bed. Thranduil caught Owen's undershirt in his hand when he reached down to the floor and brought it up to clean up the worst of the mess; after tossing the soiled garment back to the floor, he wrapped himself around the man and sighed. 

"Can you stay?" 

"For a few hours," he said. "I'll stay until everyone goes to bed." 

"Mmm... good." 

Owen brushed his fingers along Thranduil's spine. "Sleep," he whispered. 

Thranduil didn't always sleep when he was in strange or new situations---it wasn't like he couldn't survive without the rest---but between post-coital relaxation and Owen's presence, he drifted off within minutes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegh and Thranduil blow off some steam, and the team's careful planning is interrupted.

"Follow me." 

Thranduil quickly recovered from the surprise of feeling his former guard casually nudge him. Curious about the intentions behind her gesture, he set off after the other elf. 

When they ended up in the parking lot behind the safe house, he still wasn't sure what to expect. The last few days had been both boring and stressful, repeating escape routes and going over the details of the plan, and Thranduil was beginning to feel the strain. He wanted to _act_. He wanted Adolfson and Oakes to see he was up to the challenge and to stop testing him. He wanted to go home with Owen and not share him with anyone else for at least a week. 

Vegh opened the trunk of her car. She pulled out a large bag; unzipping it revealed a collection of what looked like rolled-up towels. 

Thranduil watched as she smiled and unrolled one of the bundles. A shining sword, with intricate vine work engraved through its blade and handle, gleamed up at them. 

"It is... beautiful," Thranduil said. 

The female elf smiled. "I made it. I made them all. Figured you wouldn't have yours with you, since Shaw picked up gear for you in-country." 

"No, I had to leave them at home. A tourist would not... need them." 

Vegh put two blades, so similar to his preferred weapons, in his hands. Then, she reached into a bag for two more. She closed the trunk of her car. 

"Let's spar. It's been an interesting day. And Adolfson..." she trailed off and muttered something disparaging in their language. Thranduil snorted, catching the gist of her words. She shrugged. "Besides," she added, switching back to English, "I could use the practice. It isn't often I'm in the presence of a decent sparring partner." 

"Very well." 

They took their weapons to the front of the vehicle. 

Thranduil took a moment to inspect the blades. He tested their weight in his hands. He smiled; they weren't perfectly balanced for _him_ but they were even in weight and seemed to swing smoothly when he tested them in his hands. He looked to Vegh and nodded. 

"These are well-made," he said. 

She smirked. "Thank you, my lord," she said quietly, bowing her head as she took up a defensive stance. 

He snorted and took up a similar position, though his was more to show an offensive intent. She called out that she was ready to start, a short burst of Sindarin that signalled it was time to fight, and he leapt at her. 

Vegh grinned and blocked his strike. He grinned back before whirling away and trying for her again. 

They fought hard, letting the frustration of reconnaissance and waiting and disagreements with coworkers out on each other as they swung swords and all-but-danced around the parking lot. Thranduil grinned when Vegh lunged at him---and missed because he whirled out of the way and threw himself over the hood of a vehicle. He landed and barely had time to turn his head because Vegh was in front of him, blades drawn and poised to lash out at him. 

"Hey!"

With his own blades, Thranduil blocked her attempt. Both elves ignored the cry coming from the steps of the safe house; they weren't going to do each other any harm, so Thranduil didn't see why he should stop and it didn't look like Vegh felt like stopping either. She grinned at him as she kicked out at his knees; she laughed when Thranduil did the same, catching the back of her knee with his foot, and only jumped away in the nick of time. 

Thranduil caught sight of Oakes and Ivory as he pursued Vegh but he kept his attention on his opponent. He turned and slashed and blocked; Vegh pounced in retaliation, but he was able to avoid her attack by whirling away from her. 

His movements were slightly more fluid than hers. He'd trained longer and fought in a few more wars than she had and his movements reflected that, they were economical and precise. Vegh met him blow for blow, though, her slightly-flourishing motions not a hindrance as they battled for dominance---until Thranduil caught sight of Owen watching from the doorway and decided to end their sparring match. He blocked Vegh's attempt at his throat, knocked her down, and held a blade to her neck. 

"Do you yield?" he asked. 

"For now," she replied, grinning up at him. 

Before he reached down to help her stand, he smirked. They bowed their heads to each other in respect; she backed up, turning to the car when she was close enough, and he followed. 

No one else spoke. Thranduil glanced towards the building to gauge their reactions. Ivory seemed stunned; Oakes appeared to be deep in thought. Owen was grinning, and a dark and warm weight was sitting in his gaze. 

"What was that?" Oakes asked Vegh when she was close enough to the small group. 

She shrugged. "I needed to blow off some steam. Kendall's the only one who can keep up with me." 

"Nice skills," Owen commented quietly. 

"Thanks, Shaw." 

"You, too, Kendall," the group's leader added when Thranduil was close enough to him. Thranduil smirked. Owen grinned at him from behind Oakes and Ivory. "It's been a while since I've seen you fight." 

"Thanks, Boss," Thranduil replied. 

He followed Vegh's path into the house; certain the others weren't watching, he reached out and rubbed his fingers over Owen's stomach. Owen's muscles were tense against his touch. He may have looked relaxed but he was coiled tightly and prepared to spring. 

"I'm going to go get a shower," Thranduil announced to Vegh. "Can work wait?"

"No, it can't," Owen answered for her. He came up behind Thranduil, body unyielding, and tipped his mouth towards the elf's ear. "Get in my car. I have a job for you." 

A shiver ran through Thranduil's body. The tone of Owen's voice was calm and collected to the untrained ear, but Thranduil knew him better than the team did and he could hear the threat (the promise) in the rumble of words. 

Nodding, Thranduil turned, grabbed his messenger bag from the foot of the stairs, and headed back out into the sunlight. He heard Owen tell the team they were going to be a few hours---that they were going to watch the compound---and then he could be heard leaving the building.

"Get in, be quiet, and for god's sake, Thran, don't touch me," Owen whispered in warning. 

The elf would have grinned, but he knew better. Since watching him sparring with Tauriel, Owen's appreciation of Thranduil's fighting skills had only grown in its intensity. He would have felt guilty for provoking him, but when Owen was in that sort of mood, it usually only ever worked out well for Thranduil. 

Owen drive them through the city, only stopping when he pulled in front of a rather expensive hotel. Thranduil took in his surroundings; then he looked at Owen, expecting an explanation. 

"What?" Owen asked. 

"It's a little... upscale, don't you think?"

With a smile and a shake of his head, Owen said: "Better sheets. Better shower."

&&&

"Will they actually expect us to return with information?" Thranduil asked, hours later, as he towelled dry his hair.

Still stretched out across the bed, still littered in scratches and bitemarks from Thranduil's amourous attentions (to match the marks Owen liberally applied to Thranduil's body), Owen chuckled. He reached for Thranduil, hand to hip, and he pulled the elf closer. 

"Maybe, but it's need-to-know," Owen replied. "Sit. Relax. We have time before we have to go back." 

"You will tell me if I'm ruining the effectiveness of the team, yes?" Thranduil asked, his voice soft as he gave voice to a concern he'd been entertaining since their passion was sated. "I do not want to cause you any grief and if keeping us a secret---"

Owen squeezed his hip. "You're making it better. Plus, I think the guys are a little wary of Vegh now," he said. "And that's good. For a while, I think they suspected I hired her to be eye candy... but she's been proving herself valuable to them since then." 

"I better be your eye candy," Thranduil muttered, for a moment irrationally jealous of the other elf on Owen's team. 

With a little chuckle, Owen pushed himself up into a sitting position. He pulled Thranduil into his arms and onto their lap, their legs slotting together easily (eagerly), and his hands slid up the bare expanse of Thranduil's back. 

"Jealousy? Really?" Owen asked. He grinned. "The fair elf king is jealous of one of his lowly subjects?"

Thranduil scowled to mask how much Owen's teasing affected him. He wondered how Owen could put words like those together---words Bard could have easily said to him on any day they were lucky enough to be together---and could give them voice without feeling the ache of remembrance. He wondered how many of those moments he had in his near-future and if the pangs would always be so sharp. And then, as he brushed his fingers over Owen's tanned face, stubble tickling his fingertips, he wondered why he was complaining, even if it was only inside his mind. 

"She would be a part of my royal guard," Thranduil declared. "Not just one of the commonfolk. She's far too skilled with swords to be _common_."

Owen grinned. "And what would I be?"

"The king's consort."

Owen laughed into Thranduil's shoulder. Thranduil reached up and cupped the back of Owen's head, needing more contact with him as he remembered how he and Bard struggled to balance ruling and protecting with their own personal needs and wants. It had been so difficult, but ultimately worth it---even though Thranduil wished they'd had more time to themselves, to be their true selves and not what their peoples needed them to be. 

"Sounds good to me," Owen said in a quiet voice. "Do I get to wear a crown?"

Thranduil smiled. "Of course. A gold circlet... with little gems in it that would match the jewelry I would dress you in." 

"Is that all I get to wear?" 

The elf grinned. "Only when you're dressed for my pleasure," he purred before he stole a kiss from the man's lips. "When you're in public, you would wear finery expected of your station." 

"Proper thing." 

"Exactly," Thranduil agreed. 

He bit back the sigh that longed to escape, a sigh full of memories and the laughter and tears associated with those thoughts, and kissed Owen gently. He sucked on Owen's lower lip, nipping it with his teeth before releasing it, and pulled back to look into his lover's eyes. 

"Tell me something," Owen whispered. 

"I love you," Thranduil whispered back. 

Owen smiled. "Thran..." 

"Ask me something," Thranduil said, since he was unsure of what truth would come from his mouth first with so many memories pressing at his thoughts. 

Owen nodded and reached up with one hand to cup the side of Thranduil's face. The gesture was meant to be comforting, Thranduil was sure, but all the elf felt in that moment was _trapped_. He swallowed hard and waited for Owen's question, the sudden (and unwanted) urge to flee beating inside his chest like a captured bird trying to escape its cage. 

The question was never asked, though. Before Owen could open his mouth, his phone beeped. He cursed under his breath and released Thranduil to reach for it. He cursed again when he looked down at the screen. 

"Things got more complicated," he muttered. 

Thranduil took the phone out of his hands. Looking down at the screen, he saw that Hobbs and a well-dressed woman had been photographically caught in very nearly the same spot where he had been when Owen met him at the airport. He looked into Owen's scowling face. 

"We can handle it," Thranduil assured him. "We've been preparing. We just need to act before they get set up." 

"Tonight then." 

"Tonight," Thranduil agreed.

Owen sighed and nodded. "And then we'll leave town and worry about getting home from wherever we end up." 

"Sounds good to me," Thranduil whispered. He leaned in and kissed Owen's forehead. "Let's get to work, Boss," he murmured. "We've got things to steal and government agents to outwit."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen and his team infiltrate Verone's compound.

No one had been happy about their schedule being tightened, but they all agreed that it was better to start before the Diplomatic Security Service operatives were settled and fully operational. Everyone did their part to prepare: Klaus went to the docks to ensure the early availability of a container under an assumed name for the items they'd be stealing from Verone's compound; Vegh and Thranduil and Adolfson went through the equipment and packed everything the way they'd need it later; Oakes and Ivory gassed up the cars; Owen went over the building and road plans to look for anything they'd forgotten to address. 

"You ready?" Owen asked Thranduil, his voice quiet, when they had a moment alone to talk. "Any second thoughts or concerns?" 

If Owen had known the full extent of Thranduil's history, Thranduil would have laughed and told him not to ask ridiculous questions. He was nervous---he was always a little nervous before battles or other important events---but he wasn't _anxious_. Shaking his head, Thranduil nudged Owen with his elbow before he leaned back against one of the crates. 

"It's fine. I'm ready." 

"Good," Owen said. "Did you choose a bow?"

"Two," he replied. "I'll string them before I climb. There's a small clearing in the woods behind the house." 

"Be careful," Owen whispered. "If I have to come looking for you---"

"Same," Thranduil whispered back, a growl slipping into his words. "There will be punishment if you get yourself caught." 

Owen's facial expression lost some of its fierce pre-job focus, but a darker, hungrier look burned from his eyes. He did not say anything with words, but there was enough evidence on the surface of his face for Thranduil to imagine what he was thinking. _(Punishment? Sounds about right, love. Try my nerves by getting caught and I'll punish you so thoroughly you will be begging me for forgiveness.)_ Thranduil shivered as his imagination helped his arousal along. Owen smirked, squeezed his wrist, and moved past him to assist Vegh with the packing up of some of the resources they used during the planning stages that he did not want to lose. 

Thranduil watched him work for a few minutes, but he eventually went back to his room to make sure his personal items were packed. He'd already done as Owen had asked, putting his essentials in a backpack and everything else in the suitcase, but he took the time to perform a quick check to keep from being idle. He felt agitated, ready to go, and he knew he needed to calm himself before he was truly ready to go and participate in this scheme. 

After ensuring that his passport and cash were strapped to his body, under his clothing, he took some time to braid his hair. He went over the plan with each bit he plaited---exit vehicle, disappear into trees, prepare weapons, climb house, make contact, set watch, and so on---even though it wasn't a difficult plan, given that he used to lead armies in actual wars. It was Owen's plan and he was new to overtly criminal endeavors and he wanted this to go _well_ so Owen would continue to keep him close. 

"I don't think I've ever seen your hair braided back, my lord." 

When he turned, Vegh was leaning against the doorframe. He rolled his eyes at the moniker used but responded to her comment in an even, pleasant tone. "It becomes tedious when you've been alive this long," he said. 

"Many things become tedious," Vegh agreed. "That you've kept your wits and spirit, all this time..." 

"I've had some rough moments," Thranduil admitted, thinking back to his meltdown in the late seventeenth century (according to the calender that presently ruled the world) when he gave in to everything he'd been feeling (every loss, every love, every ache the world was experiencing, all at the same time) and let the pain nearly consume him. "Not proud moments, either," he added. 

Vegh's lips twitched into a smirk. "I've had some of those myself," she murmured. "Are you ready?"

Thranduil picked up a hat---one of Owen's knitted caps---and tucked it into his jacket pocket. He was wearing denim and canvas in dark shades, to blend in with the night shadows that would be around him. He nodded. 

"I'll drive you there," she said. When Thranduil arched an eyebrow, she smiled and added: "Shaw's orders." 

"Fine." 

He adjusted his clothing before bending to tuck a small dagger into his right boot. When he straightened Vegh was watching him, inspecting him. He ruffled immediately, his instinct to reprimand his subject suddenly sharp and hot in his mind, but when he opened his mouth, a sober(-er) second thought held his words back from the other elf. They were not royalty and guard anymore, he reminded himself, and if he wanted her to treat him more informally---something that was required for them to work together on Shaw's team---his scolding would wreck any progress they'd made in that regard. He smothered his irritation, even though there was a good chance she saw it in his face already, and gestured to her to lead the way out of the room and down to the main level of the building. 

Owen gave him a strange look---somewhere between recognition and confusion---as he bounded downstairs behind Vegh, but he didn't say anything. Thranduil didn't ask any questions, either, turning his attention to his equipment bag and testing its heft over his jacket, even though he wanted to know what was on Owen's mind. It wouldn't do to have thoughts about dreams or the past in their heads minutes before they went to work. 

As Thranduil and Vegh strode to the door, Ivory passed them each a small case. Thranduil snapped open the lid of his and saw an earbud device sitting in a small bed of foam. He nodded at Ivory. 

"Shaw can change channels, programmed a router of sorts this morning," he explained to the elves. "We're all on by default, so keep chatter to a minimum." 

Thranduil nodded again. He put the package in the chest pocket of his jacket and glanced over at Owen. The man's face was nearly without expression; a glimmer in his eyes gave him away and Thranduil could see how eager he was to get started. It might have been because he wanted to try their abilities against the unexpected arrival of Hobbs and Fuentes, but Thranduil suspected it was a desire to get out of town before Hobbs caught their trail. Owen had always been aware of the mess Hobbs could make of his life, and he'd always been careful not to let Hobbs get anywhere near him; Thranduil knew that his involvement in Owen's team was a risk, especially if the ridiculous mountain of a soldier realised who (or what) he was. 

"Let's go," Owen said, looking at the group.

Oakes, Adolfson, and Denlinger left together. Ivory and Klaus left together, too. When it was just Vegh, Thranduil, and Owen in the entryway, Thranduil wanted to say something to Owen, but there was nothing he was willing to share in front of Vegh. Owen looked into Thranduil's eyes for a long moment, before turning his attention to Vegh. 

"I'll see you there," he told her. 

She nodded. 

"But don't leave Thran if you think something's off," he added. 

"I can handle myself," Thranduil grumbled. 

Vegh smiled. "His safety is my priority," she murmured, bowing her head to Owen in a sign of respect. 

"Good." 

"Owen..." 

He turned at his name on Thranduil's lips. He reached out, catching Thranduil's hand in his, and he pulled Thranduil close. 

"Stay safe, be good, and stay in contact," Owen whispered. 

Thranduil nodded. Owen squeezed his hand before stepping away and going through the door. Vegh, still smiling, gestured with her head; Thranduil followed her out of the building and to her car. They drove away before Owen did, Vegh's car accelerating through the dark streets and weaving through traffic with little effort on its driver's part. 

"Any questions before we get there?" Vegh asked quietly. 

Thranduil tugged on his hat, hiding his braids from view. "None that I can think of." 

Vegh nodded. "Not nervous?"

"No." 

She nodded again. Then, she said: "If you get into trouble, call for me. Shaw gave me permission to drop what I'm doing and come for you." 

"He's being ridiculous." 

"He's keeping you safe," she argued. "Besides, I would come for you whether or not I have permission, my lord. You tell me if you're in trouble."

Thranduil sighed. "Fine." 

Vegh made a pleased sound in her throat and slowed the vehicle down as she approached the spot from where Thranduil would depart for the house opposite Carter Verone's Argentinian home. Once she'd pulled over to the side of the road, Thranduil exited the car with a nod of his head and took his bag of equipment from the back. He patted the roof of her car before heading towards the trees; as he listened to her speed off for her own starting point, he walked further into the shadows. 

Slipping through the trees, he used his memories of exploring with Vegh and of studying the maps to get to the clearing he remembered. Once there, he dropped his bag and knelt in the dirt. He pulled the bows out of the large bag, found their strings, and set his quivers of arrows on the ground. He only planned to use the recurve bow, because it would be easier to remain hidden if he didn't have to allow for room to use the longbow, but he wanted to have both ready because he did not know what would happen once the mission was underway. 

He looked at the other equipment in the bag and decided to take the nightvision-enabled binoculars, even though he didn't need them. He clipped them to his belt and gathered his weapons. Leaving the bag under some nearby bushes, he took off for the house at a jog. 

It was harder than he thought it would be to climb the house, but he eventually made it onto the roof---and managed to do so without alerting anyone (or any security system) to his efforts. Padding softly across the shingles, he reached the best place to watch from; he settled down along the slope of the roof and removed the earbud box from his pocket. 

"Archer in position," he said quietly, when the communication device was tucked into his ear. 

"Finally," Owen muttered in reply. "Any trouble?"

"None," Thranduil answered. He did a quick sweep of the area, saw where Adolfson was posted, in the distance, and brought his gaze back down to focus on the property they were targeting. "Everything seems quiet from the front." 

"Good. Ivory, Vegh, with me." 

He watched from his perch as the trio worked, dismantling the perimetre fence and slipping onto the property. Klaus and Oakes remained hidden in shadows, but Thranduil's eyes could see them clearly. He tracked Vegh and Ivory as they entered the house through a door (before a little fiddling with an electrical box on Ivory's part), but he kept his focus on Owen, who was making his way to the garage. 

"Oakes." 

At Owen's prompting, Oakes gestured to Klaus and slipped through the hole made in the fence. He took the path Owen made, sticking to the shadows, waiting for rotating cameras to turn away, and eventually, he made it to the garage, too. 

And then, Thranduil settled in to wait. He knew they weren't leaving until Ivory and Vegh found the computer equipment and other items on their list, because two cars leaving the garage would create a disruption to routine that the guards would certainly notice and investigate. He listened as Vegh said she found the jewels and he breathed a sigh of relief when she indicated she'd opened the vault with no problems. When Ivory announced he'd removed the hard drives and could proceed to exit, he felt a wave of relief. 

But, then, the wave of relief promptly crashed on a rocky shore. 

Monica Fuentes drove past his perch, to the front gate of Verone's estate. He could see her clearly in the driver's seat of the armoured car; he frowned and alerted Owen to her presence. 

"Plan B, then," Owen said. "Oakes, we're leaving now so follow me and stay close. We'll draw her away. Klaus, wait for Vegh and Ivory. Only engage if necessary. Adolfson, Denlinger, have the diversion ready to go on my mark. Kendall, don't come down until it's clear. Stay in contact with him, Vegh, so he knows when you're close." 

The engine roar from the garage was nearly deafening on the quiet street. The government agent got out of her car just as doors and gates started sliding open. She looked around, seemingly confused by the activity, but as Owen and Oakes sped past her in two of Verone's cars, she recovered. Guards from the residence were running towards her, towards the racket, but she quickly got back into the vehicle and turned around to follow the car thieves. Thranduil could just make out her voice shouting into her phone to someone---probably Hobbs---about a robbery at her current location, before his attention was drawn to the property's guards who were doing a search of the darker corners of the property. 

"Klaus," Thranduil said quietly, "two guards are coming at you from the east." 

"Got it." 

Vegh slipped out of a window and gripped the ledge above it as she climbed for the roof. Ivory struggled; Thranduil watched as his hands slid, unable to find purchase, and he made a decision. 

"Ivory, don't move," Thranduil said, speaking low and calmly. 

"What---"

Thranduil fired one of the specialty arrows he requested, and it struck the house just above the ledge. Ivory laughed over their communication devices, and grabbed it. It wasn't much of a handhold but it seemed to do the trick, providing him with enough stability to take hold of the ledges Vegh had used. Thranduil let loose another arrow, and another, until a support path for Ivory was sticking out of the wall of the house. 

"Thanks, Kendall," Ivory said, after he swung himself up onto the roof with a little help from Vegh. "Klaus, get the car, we're meeting you in the back. Shaw, we're clear." 

"Good. Denlinger, Adolfson, now," Owen ordered, from wherever he was. 

A bullet and then what seemed like a fireball struck a vehicle parked in the front yard. Thranduil winced as his sight was assaulted by the burning truck; he turned his head away, choosing to focus on Vegh's position behind the garage. When she cut the fence there, an alarm sounded, but she and Ivory were already racing towards the car that pulled up to meet them. They got into the car and Klaus drove away. 

Content to wait and watch, Thranduil settled into a more comfortable position. Still hidden by the shadows, he watched as Fuentes returned with other vehicles in tow. Agents in bullet-proof vests and other bits of armour were flooding the property. The security guards shot poorly, their aim off in the dark (or in the confusion of the night's events, from their perspective); they ended up killed or captured with minimal damage on the agents' side. A military vehicle, an armoured jeep, pulled up as the skirmish ended, and Thranduil watched Hobbs get out and survey the scene in front of him. 

"Who was it?" Hobbs asked Fuentes. 

"I don't know. Two men. Caucasian, from what I could tell." 

Hobbs nodded. He walked to one of the captured men and grabbed him by the front of his t-shirt. "Do you have security cameras?" Hobbs asked him. 

The man spat at him, cursing vehemently. Hobbs smirked and threw the man on the ground. A kick to his stomach was all it took to loosen his tongue; he told them about the security system, where to find the monitors, and before Hobbs could kick him again, he was telling them the code to access the system. 

"Hobbs is gaining access to their security feed," Thranduil whispered. 

"Well, we'll be gone before that matters," Owen replied. 

Vegh spoke next: "Kendall, I'm on our way to you. Ten minutes out." 

"Good," Owen muttered, "Kendall, get down while they're distracted. Adolfson, Denlinger, get to the safe house and prep for departure. Everyone else, head to the docks." 

"Got it," Adolfson replied. 

With a sigh, Thranduil rolled onto his back, and slid towards his exit path. He could have walked, but he did not want to catch Hobbs' attention---which he could do if he stood while the flames were still bright. It was easier to get down from his perch than to climb into it, and it took him very little time to run to where his bag had been stashed. By the time Vegh pulled up to the place where she'd left Thranduil, he was emerging from the trees; he tossed his bag into the trunk that opened as he approached and after slamming the compartment shut he slipped into the passenger seat. 

Vegh smiled and settled back in her seat. Thranduil smiled back at her. 

"Shaw, I have Kendall. We're on our way." 

"Good. Tell the guard at the docks you're here for container six hundred and forty-seven," Owen said in their ears. "He'll know to wave you through." 

"Got it," Vegh replied. 

She drove them through the city, not speeding but not wasting any time, either. When they reached Dock Sud's port area, Vegh did as Owen instructed, and they found themselves beind waved through a gate. She found Owen and the others easily; they were driving the cars into a container while others were packing the other items taken from the estate. 

"Why are we here?" Thranduil asked. "Wouldn't it be better to help dismantle the safe house?"

"Shaw wants you here," Vegh said, shrugging, "and the boys can handle it. It's not that hard, they won't be packing up much." 

Thranduil frowned. He realised that Owen had the situation managed, but he wished it didn't seem like Owen was taking unnecessary steps to guard Thranduil on top of those required to do his job. He did not want Owen's attention stretched too thin. 

"C'mon," Vegh insisted as she parked the car. "Let's go get our marching orders." 

Thranduil followed her out of the vehicle and towards the rest of the team. When Owen stepped out of the container and made eye contact with him, Thranduil smiled; in reply, Owen smiled and nodded. His shoulders seemed to relax as he walked down the ramp and took a security case from Ivory. 

"Put the baubles in the trunk of the convertible," Owen told him. 

"You know, we'd have known sooner if you had Hicks on your side," Vegh commented, when she and Thranduil were standing to the side of the container with Owen. 

"Maybe," Owen agreed. 

"This was close," she said. "If you hadn't been contacted by a source about his arrival---"

"We got in and out. The shipment's going out at dawn," Owen interrupted. "Besides, there was no reason to suspect he'd be here." Vegh frowned and nodded. He eyed her. "Are you worried about getting caught?"

Thranduil watched her as she stiffened and glared at Owen. "No more than usual," she said, her voice low and tight. "But if he learns who we are... if word gets out---"

"Vegh, it's fine," Thranduil whispered. 

"It is not. You, especially, cannot be caught."

He cut her off again. "I can handle myself." 

Owen nudged him. "I agree with Vegh," he said. "You getting pinched won't help. And Tauriel would kill me, as soon as we busted you out." 

Vegh chuckled. "She'd consider it, at least." 

With a smirk, Owen nodded. He looked from one elf to the other, his face turning solemn again. "I will consider it, Vegh," he told her. "He was here to search Verone's property, I'm sure, and I have other sources to tap, but yes, in the future, it may become an issue. I will consider it. That's it, for now." 

Seeming to be pleased with his response, she nodded. "I'll go to the safe house," she told him. 

"Alright. Get our bags, we'll meet you at the train station." 

When Vegh left them, Thranduil turned to look at Owen. He smiled and shrugged. "Can't stay here if Hobbs is here, too, so I figured we'd head to Córdoba if that works for you," he said in a quiet voice. "We can travel by train and spend a day or two there, before heading home." 

"Sounds good," Thranduil murmured. 

"Vegh will come with us," he added. 

"That's fine. I imagine it's a long train ride and there will be plans to make," Thranduil said. "She is the one you prefer to strategise with." 

Owen nodded. "She has good long-term perspective. And with... the other mission, her outlook'll be helpful."

"She knows what has been happening," Thranduil said, his voice lowering to a whisper when Oakes started to approach them. "I trust her judgement." 

"I trust yours, too, you know," Owen said. Before Thranduil could say anything else, he turned to Oakes. "All set?"

"Yeah. Klaus and I will head out. Our flight leaves in two hours." 

Owen smiled and shook Oakes hand. "Thanks, mate," he said. "I'll transfer your cut when the rest of the payment is deposited into my account." 

Oakes nodded to Thranduil, who nodded back. Owen waved to Klaus and they left. Thranduil wondered how they would be getting to the train station, since there were no other cars for them to drive, but after they closed the doors on the shipping container, the elf spotted a motorcycle parked nearby, two black helmets hanging from it. He looked at Owen, who grinned back at him. 

"Let's go for a ride, love," he murmured. 

Thranduil smirked.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While leaving Buenos Aires, Vegh shares some information with Thranduil that is a shock to his system.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Please don't hate me.)

After a fast and agile ride through the city to the train station, Thranduil had been hoping for a fast and agile ride in their private cabin, but he was disappointed. Owen seemed determined to take advantage of the train ride, declaring that they could use the journey to inform Vegh of what they (Owen) knew so far about the dangers Tauriel and Thranduil (and others like them) were facing and to begin to make plans for their collective future. Thranduil tried to lure him back to their compartment with a few strategic kisses and his best smoldering look, but Owen could not be dissuaded. He gave Thranduil a stern (though slightly amused) look and promised that they'd have some time before the train pulled into their destination station. 

It was that promise---and the red wine Vegh was ordering for him---that was keeping Thranduil in his seat in the dining car. 

When she returned to their table, setting bottles of pop down in the middle before putting the glass of red wine in front of Thranduil, she sat down opposite Thranduil and Owen. Owen grabbed a bottle and twisted off the cap. As he sipped the fizzy, sugary drink, Vegh pulled his tablet towards her and studied the screen's content. 

"So, there's a facility in the States, somewhere," she muttered, scanning the data Owen and Thranduil had compiled, "and one in Spain?"

"Looks like," Owen commented. "That's all we've been able to gather from Tauriel's research. There seems to be a decommissioned facility, but there's not much data on its location.

"It could be Shipka in the Ukraine," Vegh suggested. "It was recently closed." 

"That's a radar station," Owen said with a shake of his head. "Besides, there have been talks that it might be repurposed." 

"If I was going to conduct secret experiments on people, I wouldn't do it at a medical facility," Vegh said. Her brows were low, pinched in the middle with tension. Thranduil felt a similar tension taking up residence at the back of his skull. The thought of what was happening to other elves was awful to consider; he was enduring it, but only barely. Vegh shared a look with him---a slight softening of her eyes, a sign of sympathy---before she turned her attention to Owen. "I'd do it where no one would suspect it to be done." 

Owen shrugged. "Fair enough." 

Thranduil frowned. "What are you going to do? Go there and look around? Vegh---"

"Maybe. Or send someone. Oakes and Ivory could do it," Owen cut in before Vegh could respond to Thranduil's questions and protests. 

"Adolfson," Vegh suggested, as she returned to scanning the information on the tablet. "He would enjoy it. He likes solo missions... but he also works well with Oakes, and both of them them need reassurance since Thranduil joined the team." 

Owen rolled his eyes, snorting a little under his breath. "I don't care about their feelings. I'm not their mother." 

"Yes, yes, I know," Vegh said, smirking, "but sending them on a job by themselves would show you trust them." 

"I'll consider it," Owen conceded. 

"What's next?" Thranduil asked. "For work, I mean." 

Owen shrugged. "Nothing right now. Deckard texted earlier, said he might have a job for us. I'm waiting to hear details. Why?" 

Thranduil shrugged. "Well, if your jobs could bring us in parallel to other operations or locations, we could... use them to mask our intentions," he suggested, sharing the thought that had been in his mind since they'd entered the dining cart and started discussing their situation. "It might keep Petty off our trail." 

With a smirk on her lips, Vegh nodded. "That would be the best strategy," she said, setting the tablet aside. "We might even be able to keep our true intentions from Deckard, to an extent, with that plan. We use his jobs and our own clientele to bring us closer to the information we need to further our plans." 

Curious about the plan upon which Vegh and Thranduil were agreeing, Owen chimed in with his own ideas. Thranduil listened, sipping his (terribly cheap) wine, but remained silent; he didn't know enough about the Shaw brothers' clients or about the way Owen did business to contribue, but he felt listening was a step in that direction. Part of his mind was still focused on those of his kind who were prisoners and test subjects---it always was, ever since Tauriel dropped that bombshell onto his relatively peaceful existence---but he was still tuned into what Owen and Vegh were saying, filing it away for future reference. Every so often, he felt the warmth of Owen's leg against his, and he'd look up from his wine; Owen would treat him to one of the small smiles that was just for Thranduil and Thranduil would smile back. 

They'd been smiling at each other after Owen took a minute to show Vegh the photographs Deckard had sent him, of the destruction one of those explosive collars created, when Vegh's soft gasp drew their attention away from each other. Thranduil's thoughts, torn between plans for future operations (along with the reasons for those plans) and the affection he held for Owen, turned to curious questions when he turned and saw the way Vegh's eyes had widened. 

"What is it?" he asked her. 

Holding the tablet out to Thranduil, Vegh asked: "Does she look familiar to you?" 

"She?" Owen asked. 

Vegh nodded. "It is hard to tell, with the uniforms and androgynous body shapes, I agree. But, she is female." She turned her eyes back to Thranduil. "Could it be Bella---"

The elf's full name hadn't even left Vegh's lips before Thranduil was slamming his hand down upon the table. He knew people were looking at them, at him, but he couldn't feel any embarrassment or regret because equal measures of rage and sorrow were whirling inside of him like a storm of ice and fire. He could not bear to hear _that_ name again. Too much pain was associated with it and her memory. 

As if she knew what he was thinking, Vegh whispered, "It is too long to hold such grudges, my lord." 

Thranduil stared at her. She was gone; he knew she'd sailed West. He'd been told by his scouts, the ones he sent to investigate after hundreds of years without word from her, that she'd reached the Grey Havens and she'd been seen boarding one of the ships destined for Valinor. He didn't understand why Vegh would bring up such painful memories, by comparing her to a photograph of an unknown elf; acknowledging that there was a resemblance would do nothing but break down walls in his mind and heart that he'd erected centuries before even Girion of Dale was born. 

Owen's hand pressing into Thranduil's lower back before sliding up to his shoulder was enough to jolt him from his thoughts. He squeezed affectionately and asked, "Who is it? What's wrong?" 

He could not form words to lie or to obfuscate, not when Owen was looking at him with wide, searching eyes and a soft frown on his face. He hesitated, shaken to the core at the memory of Bellasiel and of how he'd behaved in their time of shared grief. He had successfully buried the pain of that grief and of her disappearance, deep down in the darkness of his soul, and not even his son had been able to fully excavate that pain. When Vegh reached out and put her hand over his, he flinched; he cursed in Sindarin, quietly but not so quietly that his companions did not hear the words. 

"Filthy mouth," Owen commented. 

Vegh's focus shifted from Thranduil to Owen. "You understood that?" she asked. 

"Let's just say his tone gave the sentiment away," Owen murmured. He turned his head and looked at Thranduil; when he tipped Thranduil's head towards him with one hand under his chin, Thranduil finally met his concerned gaze. "Who is she?" Owen asked. "Can you talk about it?"

He shook his head. Something of the misery he was feeling must have shown on his face, because Owen frowned and brushed his fingers along his neck and jaw in a slow, soothing pattern. 

"Is this about Bard?" he asked. 

"No," Thranduil whispered. "This is... something that happened long before I met him." He shook his head and swallowed against the lump that had crawled up into his throat from his heart. Looking at Vegh, he said, "It cannot be her. It is impossible to return from where she went... you know this." 

"She did not sail," Vegh admitted. 

For the first time since she and Thranduil had crossed paths, she would not meet his eyes. He stared at her, and she kept her eyes averted, to the tablet and the photograph of the unknown elf. 

"Velossfaeniel," he whispered. "How do you know this?"

"I saw her in Mithlond," she replied, daring to glance at him. 

"You saw her?" Thranduil asked. 

When Vegh nodded, Thranduil was the one to turn away his gaze. He brought a hand up to cover his mouth as he stared off into space, through the window and into the darkness around them. He'd thought she was gone, but if Vegh was correct and it was her in that photograph, Bellasiel still lived. He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, contemplating the possibility. He allowed himself to remember that time, when his family had been shattered, when he had lost almost _everything_ to a small faction tainted by the evil remaining in the world. 

It should have been a joyous time, with his daughter nearly at her first century and his son nearly at his first year and his wife at his side. Bellasiel had been everything he wanted in a daughter, brilliant and brave and beautiful; she'd been the future of his ruling line and Velossfaeniel's second in command, long before Tauriel was brought to his care and into his guard. He'd doted on her and tried to teach her everything she'd need to know to take the throne and they'd been a happy family until the darkness had found them. There had been threats to that time, to them and their happiness, and Thranduil had not taken them seriously since he thought they were well-protected in their kingdom. When evil attacked, the Queen led a force after it, protecting her son, and Bellasiel joined her; Thranduil had not taken the news of the attack seriously and had been late to join them. 

After fear and death, in grief and pain, the roles of father and daughter had been cast aside and many awful things had been said. After their bond had been shattered and she fled their home, Thranduil had tucked her memory, along with that of his wife, into a dark recess in his soul and he hadn't allowed himself to think much of either of them to protect his broken heart. He sent out scouts to uncover her whereabouts, in the hopes that she could be brought back, but they'd said her path ended at the Grey Havens so he'd buried her memory and his grief deeper; even Legolas, who'd often asked about his mother, seemed to know that the subject of the sister he barely remembered was completely off-limits. The shame Thranduil had felt after her alleged sailing to Valinor had burned away into a bitter acceptance of his mistakes. He'd tried to make up for those mistakes with her in his raising of Legolas, but he knew he'd failed them both in his role as father. 

His daughter had always been clever---sometimes too clever for her own good, he remembered, as happier moments surfaced in his mind---and he knew that if she'd wanted to elude his scouts she would have managed to do so. He might not have reacted well to hear she was still alive; he might have ordered her swift and immediate return to the Greenwood and that could have further injured their relationship. And he could understand why Velossfaeniel did not tell him she was alive; but her reasons for that secrecy, whatever they were, burned like betrayal along the surface of his surprise and pain. 

"You knew... all this time," Thranduil said as turned and looked at Vegh. 

"I saw her when we accompanied Urúvion to the coast," Vegh explained. "She was trading and she granted me an audience on the condition that I keep her secrets."

After a brief nod, Thranduil asked, "She was trading? For what purpose?" 

"For supplies, I believe. She travelled with different groups of Men, though sometimes she travelled with the remaining Dúnedain, too," Vegh explained. "She had spent that winter in Imladris, but---"

Thranduil made a low, growling sound in the back of his throat. Anger at Elrond ( _that meddling busybody_ , he thought) overrode his thoughts and feelings, but it was only temporary. When he felt Owen's hand, again squeezing his shoulder, he forced himself to at least appear relaxed. 

After a nod, Thranduil said, "I know you never returned to the forest, but when we met here, you never thought to tell me?" 

Vegh sighed. "I thought about returning to Eryn Lasgalen as soon as I saw her, but she begged me not to, soldier to soldier. She was still grieving, in her own way." 

With a sigh of his own, Thranduil turned to look at Owen. He saw so many questions in Owen's eyes and he knew he needed to postpone that conversation so he could prepare his answers to those questions. His anger ebbed, leaving a deep sadness and a fluttering anxiety in its wake. He tried to smile, resulting only in a faint curve of his lips, and he reached out to cover Owen's hand with his. 

"I'm going to our compartment," he whispered when Owen leaned in towards him. "I need some time alone."

After giving Thranduil's hand a little squeeze, Owen nodded. "I'll check on you later," he said. 

Thranduil kissed his cheek before leaving the table. He knew he was avoiding so much that needed untangling, but he was fairly certain he'd just received the shock of his life---and given all he experienced, that was saying something---and he wanted to be alone to sit and process his thoughts. 

He avoided the other passengers as best as he could, slipping from the dining car, through several cars with regular seating, and into the one that contained their sleeping cabins. After finding the one he'd planned to share with Owen, he slipped inside and isolated himself from the world. He stood by the door and watched out the window as the train carried them through the darkened countryside while one thought grew louder than all the others in his head. 

_Bellasiel was alive._

A sound burst from him, a combination of laughing and sobbing, suddenly and without warning. Thranduil dropped down onto the closest bench seat; he dropped his face into his hands as memories he'd kept hidden away floated to the top of his mind. 

He remembered her as a child, brave and darling, and he remembered training her to fight; he remembered how she would take her mother exploring in the forest, the two females sharing love of adventure and nature. He remembered bargaining with her so that in exchange for her position in his guard, she would spend her evenings and special events with him, learning diplomacy and other skills required to rule their realm. 

He remembered how she'd looked, crouched over her dying mother's body, as he watched from his wife's other side with Legolas in his arms and their guards and healers around them. He remembered how he'd later shouted at her, for going off on her own and not staying with her mother as he'd ordered her to, and how she'd shouted back at him with all of her blame because he hadn't been there to help them stop the attack. 

He remembered the way the tear-stained parchment felt in his hands as he read her words of guilt and abandonment. He remembered searching her room and the surrounding woods but not finding her. He remembered adding the grief of her loss to that of his wife, letting it override his good sense until a trusted aide reminded him that Legolas needed his father. He remembered locking away his loss in a dark chamber of his heart and telling Elrond (many, _many_ years later) that he did not have a daughter, and receiving a pained look from the other elf in reply. 

By the time he'd met Bard, Bellasiel wasn't a subject ever discussed in his halls. The Dragonslayer had often praised him for being so good with Tilda and Sigrid, but Thranduil never admitted to his lover that he'd once had a daughter. 

When he came back to his senses, he sensed he wasn't alone. A quick glance around the compartment revealed Owen, leaning against the door. 

"I... oh. Hello." 

"I've only been here a few minutes," Owen whispered. He smiled a bit, stepping towards Thranduil, and once he was crouched in front of him he started wiping at Thranduil's face with a napkin. Thranduil sniffed. He realised he must have been crying quite a lot to feel so congested. "Shhh," Owen murmured, "you're alright." 

Shaking his head, Thranduil whispered, "I don't know if I am." 

Owen leaned up and kissed Thranduil's forehead. "You've had a shock," he said. "The Thranduil I know, he's made of strong stuff. I know you'll recover." 

When Owen eased up and sat next to Thranduil, Thranduil turned into Owen and tucked his face into Owen's neck. "I have no words to adequately describe what I am feeling," he admitted. 

"If it helps, Vegh seems very apologetic," Owen said. He put an arm around Thranduil's shoulders. "I could send her off to Ukraine, on assignment, as punishment, but... from what I understand, it was what Bellasiel wanted."

Thranduil frowned but he didn't move away from Owen's warmth. "What did she tell you?"

"Only that she was family and you two had a terrible argument. You thought she left the country... or died? I wasn't clear on that," Owen replied. "But, apparently, she lied and has been around, under your nose, this whole time." 

"More or less," Thranduil agreed, nodding. 

Owen rubbed his hand along Thranduil's arm. "She was on the suicide squad," he added. 

Thranduil nodded. 

"Looks like she got away, though," Owen murmured. "And now, we know why Deck thought that it was you. Family. Guess you're not as alone as you though, hmm?" 

Thranduil shook his head and closed his eyes. He could feel tears leaking out from under his eyelashes. "She will hate me until the end of time," he whispered. "I was terrible to her... I said unforgivable things. I---" he broke off to cover his mouth as a fresh bout of sobs threatened to burst out of him. 

After pulling Thranduil close and hugging him tightly, Owen kissed his head again. "So, we find her, you apologise, and you take it from there," he suggested. "She's somewhere, out there, Thran. Can you honestly say you'd be alright not looking for her?" 

Thranduil's head shake was slight, but Owen felt it, judging by the way his lips curved against his temple. Owen guided his head up, tipping Thranduil's face in his direction; after a long look, Owen leaned in for a slow, chaste kiss. When they parted, Owen smiled at him. Thranduil leaned in and kissed him again. 

Thranduil sighed. "I should speak with Vegh and apol---"

"Leave it until tomorrow," Owen interrupted. "For now, you process and sleep." 

"You're taking charge, then?" Thranduil asked. 

Owen smirked. "Yeah, I am. Get undressed and I'll unfold the bed." 

"Just one? It will be a tight fit," Thranduil commented. 

"So?" Owen asked, his smirk stretching into a grin. 

Thranduil felt himself smiling back, even with the sadness and anxiety in his heart. On impulse, to express his gratitude for Owen being at his side, he kissed the man before pulling away and starting to undress for sleep. Owen did the same, though he moved faster so he could take some time to set up their bed. Once Thranduil was naked and sitting down again, he started to recline but a firm hand to his shoulder stopped him from getting too comfortable. Owen's other hand migrated to his hair and he slowly began to loosen Thranduil's braids. Thranduil hummed as Owen worked, feeling relaxation sink into him with every touch of Owen's fingers. 

"It's strange to see your hair plaited like this," Owen murmured. "So complicated, so beautiful. Must have taken a lot of work." 

"A lifetime of practice," Thranduil whispered. He thought of his younger days, of the fashionable styles in Thingol's court that he'd adopted as his own, before so much changed for him and he decided to take control of his life in the few ways he could. "I prefer not to go to such effort anymore." 

Owen kissed the back of his head. "Your hair is beautiful, no matter what you do with it."

When the braids had been completely unravelled, Owen continued to work. He combed his fingers through Thranduil's golden strands of hair over and over until Thranduil was nearly swaying under his touch. When he was finished, he eased Thranduil back into his body; neither of them saying a word, they settled down together. 

As Thranduil started to drift, trying to keep his thoughts away from his daughter (and failing miserably), he felt Owen's lips press into his shoulder. He put his hand over Owen's, where it rested on his abdomen, and he squeezed; it was a simple gesture and not the words he wanted to give to the man who was supporting him through the unexpected, but it would have to do until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, hopefully that's not too awful or jarring. I just... had the idea and I couldn't shake it loose and move past it. 
> 
> I may be straying from the movie canon about Legolas' mother. Just a bit. I'm not sure yet. 
> 
> Also, I've never travelled on a train. So, I took some liberties with how they're laid out, with the facilities on them. I tried to do a bit of research, but I know I got some of those bits wrong.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil meets with Vegh and tells Owen about his daughter.

In the morning, Thranduil woke up to discover they'd moved while sleeping so that he ended up draped over Owen's body. He groaned and rubbed his face against Owen's chest, in an attempt to rouse himself to full alertness. His head felt thick, full of thoughts that had not vanished while he slept, and he wanted to come to terms with his new reality, as dramatic as that sounded. Knowing what he had to do didn't make matters easier. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and stared at the other side of the compartment. A plan of action was starting to come together in his drowsy mind; he knew it had to start with finding Vegh and getting the full account of what she knew of Bellasiel's survival, but he wasn't sure what steps would follow.

"Mmm," Owen hummed. 

Thranduil smiled and kissed a spot over Owen's sternum. "Good morning," he whispered. 

After a little groan, Owen tugged at Thranduil's body. "C'm'ere," he insisted, voice roughened by sleep. 

Thranduil went willingly, doing his best to rearrange his limbs so his knees and elbows avoided places Owen would prefer they didn't land. "And now what?" he asked, looking down at the man who wore Bard's face (and his own, all at the same time). 

Owen replied with a demand and a smile. "Kiss me," he whispered. 

"What makes you think you're still in charge?" Thranduil whispered back. He closed the gap between them, but kissed Owen's cheek instead of his mouth. "Go back to sleep," he murmured, after nuzzling his nose against the man's temple. "I'm going to find Vegh, but I will return as soon as we've finished talking."

Owen turned, nuzzling back against Thranduil. When his eyes opened, he whispered, "Are you sure?"

"It has to be done, sooner rather than later," Thranduil said. "She's just next to us, yes?"

Owen nodded. Thranduil leaned back, taking a minute to commit the image of a sleepy Owen to his memory before he eased off of the bed. After tugging on the previous day's jeans and a shirt from his bag, he left their compartment. His first stop was to the lavatory at the end of the car, but once he was finished taking care of his immediate physical needs he steeled himself against the tempation to linger or dawdle. He marched back to their area of the car and knocked twice on her door. 

"Enter."

When he entered the chamber he saw Vegh sitting on one of the benches with a gun disassembled in front of her. Its pieces were spread out over a towel and Vegh seemed to be in the process of meticulously brushing and polishing each piece. She looked up when he slid the door shut and he could see the toil of the previous night's conflict in the blankness of her face. 

"I am sorry, my lord," she said, not letting Thranduil's raised hand interrupt her words. "It was careless of me to bring it up the way I did."

Even though he agreed with her, Thranduil wasn't sure what method would have made the news easier to digest. He stepped across the compartment and took the seat opposite Vegh and her work. Once settled, he drummed his fingers over the fake leather cushion; she watched him carefully, not saying anything, seeming content to wait for him to put together his next statement. 

"She is alive, then. You're certain?"

Vegh thought for a moment, staring off into space, before turning her attention back to Thranduil and speaking. "I haven't seen her in a very long time. She kept to herself and she lived off the land. She only really came close to her own kind in troubling times," Vegh said, setting down the oily cloth she'd been using on her gun's components. "She was at home in the forest---no, it was more than that. You found your true home there. But, Bellasiel... she was one with nature, in a way, if that makes sense. I do not think she ever could have sailed West and left it behind..." 

After she trailed off as her head turned towards the window. Thranduil followed her gaze, but upon realising she was lost in her thoughts, he turned back to face her. A moment later, she blinked, and resumed giving him her thoughts. "Yes, I do believe it is her. If she's survived the ordeals of capture... yes, it will be Bellasiel in that photograph." 

"I must find her," he said. "I need... to see her. To _know_."

Vegh smiled. Thranduil thought the expression was more smug than joyous. He wondered if she'd suspected he'd say such a thing, if she'd known his anger and fear and sadness would melt together and drive him to such a decision. 

"Very well," she said. "I have a scheduled call with Tulcadhiel in two days. She's in touch with more of us and probably knows how to reach Bellasiel, even if she does not know her true name. I will tell her I would like to see her." 

Thranduil bowed his head a little. "Thank you." 

"You're welcome," she murmured. She picked up a few pieces of her firearm and started slotting them back together. Partway through her task, she looked up at asked, "Does Shaw know?"

With a shrug and a (slight) wince, Thranduil replied, "He knows I have a son. He asked about the photo once, asking if the blond head was a relative. A cousin or a sibling were his first guesses, but then he suggested a son. He was perceptive enough of my reaction." He leaned back in his seat as he recalled the conversation he and Owen shared, when Deckard tried to inject doubt between them when a bullet wouldn't work. "She was legend before Tauriel came to me. I have grown used to not discussing her with others---or even thinking of her, as sad as that sounds." He paused and sighed before continuing to speak. "I will have to tell him."

"Yes, you will," she said, nodding at him as she fit a few more pieces of her gun together. "That isn't surprising, is it?"

"No, but I will have to find a reason for having two grown children at my apparent age. Owen is rather clever, remember. He can add and subtract."

Vegh snorted. "My lord, it's not that unusual for men to have children while they're barely more than children themselves. And you can tell him you're older than he thinks. Good genes. One of the reasons we're being hunted," she said, provoking Thranduil into grunting and rolling his eyes. "He is devoted to his brother. He will understand and accept your need to reconnect with your daughter. That will be where he will draw his focus."

Even though Thranduil was glad for Vegh's support, he wished for Tauriel's presence in that train compartment. She'd grown up as under his wing as he'd been able to allow and because of that she'd learned to fight him on the important issues (a lesson that wasn't easy for either of them to accept); she possessed insights into his relationship with Owen (and with Bard) that Velossfaeniel did not yet possess. He briefly considered making contact with Tauriel, but he refrained. Knowing that the topic of his long-lost daughter was a subject best shared in person, he reined in the impulse to reach out to her. It would have to wait until they had time to sit down and talk, face-to-face, in a place that would allow them to share secret names in secret tongues and not worry about being overheard when emotions began running higher than they usually did. 

"I... I am sorry. I need to say it again," Vegh said, pausing in her work to look across the cabin and level Thranduil with a serious look. "She begged me not to tell you if I returned. I didn't. And then... time passed. I don't think about my history often, and when I saw you in Buenos Aires, my mind did not make the connection. Not until I saw the picture." 

He nodded. "I understand. Thank you, for allowing her to trust you."

"There is no need to thank me. I serve you and the royal family." 

Thranduil smiled a bit. "Owen might have a problem with that."

"I am on his team, yes, but his aims pertaining to your health and well-being are in line with mine," Vegh said as she turned her attention to putting her weapon back together. "I should contact Tauriel, too. She can keep me apprised of any threats." 

"I'll pass on her number before we part ways, shall I?"

"Yes, please. But, I will leave telling her of Bellasiel's existence to you." 

With a roll of his eyes, Thranduil snorted. "That conversation will have to wait until we are in the same place." 

She nodded and snapped the magazine into the handgun. She checked that the safety was on, Thranduil noted, and then she tucked the weapon into a holster she kept at her back. 

"We'll be arriving this afternoon," she said quietly. She produced a card with a few phone numbers on it. "I think Shaw will send me on a scouting mission soon. If you need me for anything, call the first one. If I don't answer, my answering service is the second. Tulcadhiel can be reached at the third number, if you wish to reconnect with your page." 

"Thank you," he said quietly. 

Thranduil left her shortly after that, avoiding the other early risers as he ducked back into the cabin he shared with Owen. Owen wasn't asleep, but he was still in bed; he was checking something on his phone, his free hand tucked up under his pillow so Thranduil had an unobstructed view of Owen's side and chest. He wanted to curl into that golden-skinned body, forget his shame, and skip the conversation they were about to have. 

As if Owen knew some of what he was thinking, he smirked and put down his phone. "Get your tights off and come back to bed." 

Thranduil smiled. "They're trousers, not tights." 

"Close enough. Take 'em off." 

The elf snorted. He still obliged Owen and removed his shirt, too, before climbing into the narrow bed and draping himself over Owen's body. Owen lowered his free hand and its fingers slipped through Thranduil's hair. Thranduil sighed. He turned his head into Owen's warmth, burying his face in Owen's neck and shoulder. 

"So... we're having a lie in?" he said into Owen's skin. 

"Yes." 

When Owen's other hand came up to rub his arm, Thranduil sighed again. "I have something to tell you." 

"Not until you're ready," Owen murmured. "I can wait." 

Thranduil nodded. He lazed in Owen's embrace, drifting in and out of awareness, until the sun had fully risen and sounds of passengers moving about could be heard over the sounds of the train. He didn't want to talk, he wanted to pretend his world hadn't changed drastically in the last day, but he knew they'd be expected to join Vegh soon, to strategise some more and he couldn't put it off inevitably. 

"I have a daughter," Thranduil said. 

"Oh. You mean, Bellasiel?"

"Yes. I thought she was gone... but apparently... she's not," Thranduil told him. 

Owen's lips brushed over his forehead. "Vegh knew, though. Was she involved somehow?"

"No, Bellasiel left home under her own power," Thranduil said. He spread his hand over Owen's chest and rubbed slowly. Owen brought his hand down from Thranduil's arm and tangled their fingers together. "You must hate finding out about these things in pieces," he whispered. 

"I'm just glad you tell me," the man murmured. He sighed. "Honestly, I wish I knew everything about you, but it's no good to force it." He kissed Thranduil's forehead again. "Can you tell me about her?"

Thranduil nodded. He closed his eyes and hugged Owen a bit more tightly. "She was her mother's daughter from the start but we grew close over time," he whispered. "As a baby, she was loud and quick to disagree---not with tears, but usually by throwing things. That did not entirely change when she was older," he said, allowing himself to remember the early days with Bellasiel. At Owen's chuckle, he smiled a bit. "She never let fear rule her, she fought against anyone and anything that frightened her. Responsibility was not something she shouldered well, but she did her best." 

"You expected her to take over the family business," Owen commented. 

He nodded again. "Yes. It was to be her duty. From an early age, she did not like that my kingdom would become hers." 

"If I followed in my Da's footsteps, I'd have been nothing more than a drunk. Or dead." 

The idea that a simple decision or a small chain of events could have kept Owen from crossing Thranduil's path did not sit well with Thranduil. He frowned. Owen scratched lightly at the back of his neck. 

"Don't worry. I'm properly motivated to stay alive now that I've got you by my side," Owen murmured. 

"Good," Thranduil grumbled. "You keep that in mind from now on, Mister Shaw." 

Owen chuckled. After a kiss to the top of Thranduil's head, he said: "Sometimes, we just have to make our own way in the world, Thran. I'm sure she would have come around to your way of thinking, if it was important, but---"

"I never got a choice," Thranduil said. He remembered his father dying in battle, remembered the blood and the smoke in the air, along with the stench of their enemies, as if it had been only a few hundred years ago. That war and those that followed would haunt him forever. The horrors he had seen had left their mark on him, as had having to take over his father's role as King. "My father was killed and I had to continue on in his role. She was supposed to ensure our realm's survival, but she... left." 

"Your father was murdered?"

"Killed in action," Thranduil replied, choosing his words carefully. "But, yes, I guess, technically." 

"And then you took over his business?"

"Someone had to," Thranduil muttered. 

Owen's lips curved against his forehead. "Is it wrong to say I'm glad you're not doing whatever that was anymore?" 

"No," the elf assured him. He snuggled deeper into Owen's embrace, closing his eyes as he relaxed. "I am glad, too. I like our life... and I find that it is worth any trouble or risk I may be facing." 

A pleased sound vibrated in Owen's throat and chest. Thranduil smiled as he felt Owen's fingers stroking over his neck and into his hair. It _was_ worth it, he knew. Owen was a reincarnation, but he was so different than so many of the others and even though Thranduil felt awful comparing them all he knew, deep down, that he favoured Owen above many of them. He wondered if Owen and Bard were bookends, if Owen would be the last mortal love of his life; he quickly pushed the thought aside as it was too sad and he had enough on his mind. 

"I've never considered fatherhood an option for me," Owen whispered. "Did it change you?"

"It eventually made me more ruthless," Thranduil replied. "And perhaps, a bit more of an isolationist. But, that was also a reaction of... of seeing my father killed. And then of my wife..." 

Owen sighed and squeezed his grip around Thranduil's body a bit more tightly. "God, you've been through so much," he whispered. "And now, you find out your daughter's been alive all this time. Do you want to look for her?" 

"Vegh knows someone who might be in touch with her. She's going to reach out to them in a day or two," Thranduil told him. 

"Good... good." 

Thranduil frowned into Owen's shoulder. "If I track her down, she's likely to run again. Or stab me with my own sword. I suppose I deserve it, for the terrible things I said to her before she ran." 

The grip of the hand on his shoulder tightened drastically. Thranduil winced, though it didn't hurt too much, surprised by the change in Owen's comportment. Before he could say anything, Owen was turning them, so he was on his side, pressed against the wall of the compartment, and Thranduil was on his back, looking up at him. 

"Don't say that," Owen said, a solemn look in his eyes. "Thran. Promise me you won't---"

"Throw myself on a blade? I promise." 

"Thran." 

Thranduil smiled a bit, touched by the depth of the man's concern for him. He reached up and rubbed a hand over Owen's stubbled cheek. "I will behave with a bit more self-preservation. For you. For us. I promise."

Owen's frown melted. He nodded. Thranduil smiled and adjusted their positions again, so Owen could be the one to rest his head on Thranduil's shoulder. He brushed his fingers over Owen's spine, tracing over bone and muscle with a light touch. He felt Owen suppress a shiver; he smiled into Owen's hair. 

"What can I tell you in return?" Owen asked. 

Thranduil's smile stretched. He shook his head. "I didn't tell you that for information about you," he murmured. "I told you because I wanted to." 

Any tension in Owen's body was released as he seemed to melt into Thranduil's body. Thranduil closed his eyes and savoured the weight of that man pressed into and around him. He could remember the weight of all of them. Cadoc and Erik had been heavier than Bard, and a few of the others who'd been warriors or soldiers had been, too; Michael had been lighter than Bard and he'd been lighter than himself by the end. Owen was close to Bard, a good combination of strength and agility, but there were differences between them beyond the superficial. Owen's skin was smoother, he had fewer scars, yes, but he was also more flexible or pliable; his body moved freely, and while Bard had hardly been arthritic when they'd met, there was a certain rigidity in his movements that Thranduil had never been able to source or erase. He supposed it was the weight of the burdens Bard bore upon his shoulders, but Thranduil could not find a way to prove that as fact. 

"What are you thinking about?" Thranduil whispered. 

"What I'm going to do to you as soon as we're at the hotel I booked." 

Thranduil chuckled. "Can I have a hint?"

"Nope." 

"You and your secrets," the elf grumbled, pretending to be annoyed. 

Thranduil felt Owen grin into his shoulder.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their trip by train is over, and Thranduil gets to have a bit of a vacation with Owen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's taking me so long to get this one finished! 
> 
> I struggled with this chapter. I should have spent more time editing it, but I'm suffering from serious writer's block. Please forgive any awkwardness and laundry list paragraphs. I'll try to be better next time!

Eventually, they untangled themselves and made their way to the dining car. Vegh was already there, sipping tea and scanning something on the tablet Owen must have left with her. She waved them both over. When they were settled opposite her, she filled them in on the calls and plans she'd been making. She told them that Adolfson and Oakes were available for reconnaissance work if Owen wished to send them to scout abandoned military facilities. Upon prompting, she said they'd be less obtrusive than Klaus and Denlinger would be and that the mission would be a step towards assuring the men of their place in Owen's ranks. 

Owen snorted at Vegh's pronouncement, and he laughed when Thranduil voiced his agreement. Then, after a few minutes, he made the calls. He told Oakes, and then Adolfson, to go to three abandoned military installments; he told them not to engage with anyone but to be prepared, to retrieve information if possible but not to analyse it as it was a family project, and that he would pay them for their expenses and time (if or) when he receive any intel from them. 

Thranduil assumed the threat of Owen's family (brother) was what he was counting on to keep any potential information secret. He approved of the lie, but even though he worried they'd snoop he also doubted any research would make much sense to the men. He'd seen the notes from Tauriel's drive; he knew how carefully worded the documentation of the experiments had been. 

When the train _finally_ arrived in Córdoba, Vegh left them with a promise to stay in touch. She'd bowed to Thranduil, a slight tilt of her head and upper body that he returned, and whispered a parting in their language before she slipped through the crowds and disappeared from sight. 

"You'll see her again," Owen promised. 

Thranduil smiled. "I know," he murmured. He smirked. "Is it time to go to the hotel?" 

"No sightseeing first?"

He shook his head. "Maybe once we're alone..." 

Owen laughed and motioned towards the station's exit. Thranduil grinned, following him.

&&&

They'd spent the afternoon in bed, but after a couple of showers they resurfaced. Owen took him out for food, to a small local restaurant that was within walking distance of their hotel. They wined and dined and talked about nothing of any real importance---though it felt important to Thranduil. They didn't talk about work or the secrets in their pasts, and it gave Thranduil hope that once the truth was out in the open there would be a foundation of comfortable affection upon which the truth could settle, upon which their passion could still survive.

Owen took him on a walk through the downtown area, showing him sights Thranduil hoped they could revisit the next day, before leaving the city, but those thoughts faded to the back of his mind when Owen clasped Thranduil's hand and tugged him close. 

"Having fun?" 

Smiling, Thranduil nudged him with his hip. "Yes," he replied. "This is nice, to be out and together." 

Owen smiled. Hand in hand, they meandered around Plaza San Martín, looking at the statue, nearly oblivious to anyone else around them; before they left the area, Owen drew him in against his body and kissed him. 

"Not sick of kissing me, then?" Thranduil teased. "Because there was quite a lot of that earlier today, and I wouldn't blame you if---"

"Never," Owen murmured. 

Before stealing another kiss, Thranduil grinned. His lips were still curved when he pressed them to Owen's, but a well-placed touch (or two) had him faltering for breath when he pulled back. 

"Owen... we're in public." 

"So?" 

Thranduil chuckled. "Come on, let's go back to the hotel. The tub has yet to be christened by us." 

When Owen wrinkled his nose, Thranduil laughed again. He kissed Owen's forehead, between his brows, and then he stepped away, his renewed grip on Owen's hand bringing the man along with him. They left the plaza and returned to the sidewalk, moving slowly and close together, nearly oblivious of their surroundings. 

The walk back to their hotel was uneventful. Only stopping to pick up a bottle of wine and a few snacks from a small market, it didn't take long before they were tucked back into their suite. Thranduil went to the bathroom, planning on filling the tub. He loved long, lazy soaks with Owen and he felt that their successful mission and active day warranted one. 

Owen joined him, two glasses of red wine in his hands, and he watched as Thranduil undressed and slipped into the hot water. It wasn't until Thranduil was settled back against the tub wall that Owen put the glasses down on the rim and began to undress himself. He stripped efficiently, but Thranduil still appreciated the show. 

"Come here," Thranduil demanded. 

Grinning, Owen eased into the water. He wriggled around until he was pressed up against Thranduil's chest, between the elf's legs, and then he sighed happily. 

"This was a good idea, love," he murmured. 

"I am full of good ideas," Thranduil said in reply, enjoying the way Owen laughed against him. "You should keep me around, for that alone." 

"I'll keep you around for more than that," Owen vowed. 

Humming softly, Thranduil rubbed his hand over Owen's chest. He didn't realise he was humming an old song of the Men of Dale, one Bard had sung to him, until Owen tipped his head into Thranduil's shoulder and asked about it. 

"An old folk song," Thranduil said quietly, trying not to pay too much attention to the memories associated with the tune. "Not from my people, but another culture I grew... rather fond of." 

Owen smiled at him, the expression distorted slightly from being perceived upside down. "It's beautiful," the man whispered. "Your voice does it a great service. Are there words?" 

"Yes, but I doubt you'd understand them." 

"Sing it for me," Owen insisted. 

Thranduil acquiesed, as he knew he would. It was difficult to deny Owen anything, even when there was a chance it would trigger a memory (and an upset of some sorts). He sang the words of the song, in its original tongue; he sang about the thrushes fluttering through the great city of Dale and the love of one's family, but he kept his attention on Owen's form against his own. 

When Owen turned his head again and kissed his chin, it seemed that there would be no memory that night. 

"Beautiful, like you," Owen murmured. 

Thranduil knew he was blushing but did nothing to hide the reaction. He kissed Owen's temple and hugged him close. 

Eventually, they moved enough to enjoy their wine and then even more to enjoy each other's bodies. Thranduil's memories were chased away by Owen's touch; his thoughts were shattered by warmth and passion. He tried to give Owen as much comfort as the man gave him, but it seemed like Owen was in a particularly giving mood and every time Thranduil tried to shift the focus of their joining to Owen, Owen redoubled his efforts. 

They wound up in bed together, still damp from the bath and also with sweat, with their legs tangled and their hands gently stroking. 

"Sleep well, Thran," Owen murmured. 

"Mmm, I am with you," Thranduil whispered back. "I always sleep well when you are near." 

Owen's reply was a kiss pressed into Thranduil's wet hair, and the sincerity of the gesture followed Thranduil into a deep and comfortable sleep.

&&&

When Owen twitched underneath Thranduil's body, Thranduil grumbled at his pillow. When Owen cried out for Bain, though, Thranduil sat up and started trying to calm down the man next to him.

"Owen... Owen..." he whispered, as his hands stroked Owen's chest and shoulders. "It's a bad dream, love," he said, hoping some part of Owen's mind was paying attention. 

"We have to get to Sigrid and Tilda!" Owen cried. "Bain! Find a---"

" _Meleth nín_ ," Thranduil murmured, "Bain and Sigrid and Tilda are safe. No one can hurt them now. You gave them the best life you ever could have. They are safe." 

Owen whimpered and curled onto his side, around Thranduil's legs and waist. Even though the use of those words---the words he'd only ever called Bard, the words that evoked too many memories that ached deep inside the former Elvenking---hurt his heart, he continued to stroke Owen's back in smooth, slow strokes. 

When Owen woke up, he groaned and rubbed his face against Thranduil's hip. 

"You had a bad dream, you're safe," Thranduil whispered, his voice sounded surer than he felt on the inside. Owen nodded, still rubbing his face against Thranduil, but it took a while before he relaxed and rolled onto his back. When he did, he blinked up at Thranduil, but he didn't say anything. Sensing the dream had frightened Owen, Thranduil placed his hand over Owen's heart. Then, he asked, "Are you well?" 

"It was... similar to the others," Owen whispered. 

"The dragon?" Thranduil asked. 

Owen nodded. "Yeah, but the dragon was dead," he said. "The city on the lake was burning... and I had children! Or, at least a son. I'm not sure who the others were, the others we were trying to get to. Bain, though? That's a strange name, isn't it?" 

"All names are strange," Thranduil murmured. "Mine means 'vigorous spring,' and I've never quite understood what prompted my parents to name me that." 

Owen smiled. "It suits you, though. Regal and posh, but connected to nature." 

Thranduil snorted. He leaned down and kissed Owen's forehead. "Thank you," he whispered. After one more kiss, Thranduil asked, "Did you get the children to safety?" 

Owen shrugged. "I don't know. We just found an intact boat when I woke up." He sighed. "I don't know why I'm so upset. I'm not a father. I don't... I'm only protective of you and a couple other people, but mostly you. I feel on edge. I feel terrified for Bain. And whoever Sigrid and Tilda are." 

"Well, let me fill in the blanks for you," Thranduil murmured. At Owen's confused look, Thranduil smiled. He hoped that by pretending that he was inventing a happy ending to Owen's story, he could give Owen some peace of mind. "You... let's see... hmmm, yes, you and Bain got onto the boat and paddled to the edge of the lake. You arrived on the shore, and found that some of the others had kept Sigrid and Tilda, who are your daughters, safe. They greeted you with hugs and laughter. And, there may be some strife in your futures, because your town did just burn, but I believe... yes, you watched your children grow up, happy and safe and knowing they are loved, and they married and raised families of their own. You watched over their grandchildren, you got grey hair, and you moved in with your lover, which is where you remained until your last breath." 

Owen smiled. "Did I? Is my lover a gorgeous blond with legs that go on for days?" 

"He may be," Thranduil conceded. 

"Good," Owen murmured. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Do we go on adventures?"

"One or two," Thranduil replied. 

Owen nodded. He tugged on Thranduil's arm until the elf was reclining against him. "I don't want to be somewhere you're not," he whispered. "Ever." 

"The same goes for me," Thranduil whispered back. 

"Tell me about one of our adventures, love," Owen insisted after stifling a yawn. "Give me good dreams." 

Thranduil smiled. After pressing a kiss to Owen's temple, he decided to tell a story about the time he and Bard ventured to one of Thranduil's favourite places in the forest. He was careful not to say Bard's name or mention anything about elves; the diluted memory made a cheerful story that carried Owen off to sleep again. Thranduil watched him for a long time, too emotionally wrought to sleep himself, and when the sun rose, he was glad that the day's exploring would give him a distraction from thoughts of Bard and Owen's dreams.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil and Owen are pushed to make a quick getaway and escape Argentina.

It wasn't the day's exploring that gave him a distraction, but the day's escaping. 

They'd been out, having breakfast at an adorable café, when Owen received a call from Ivory at the same time Thranduil received one from Vegh. He could hear Ivory's explanation that Hobbs' men had moved to Córdoba---after scanning the surveillance at exit points in Buenos Aires and learning that Shaw boarded a train---as he heard Vegh's explanation that she'd gotten his number from Owen. 

"Hobbs is onto us, I take it?" Thranduil asked her. 

"He's been driving there with Fuentes and a team. Should be arriving in an hour," Vegh said. "Ivory contacted Shaw, but in case you two are not joined at the hip---"

"Thank you," Thranduil murmured. "We are together, though I appreciate hearing the news from you. Any suggestions for a way out of here?" 

"Ivory booked a cargo flight. Rough travel, but it's quick and with a crew we've used before," Vegh told him. "You should go there now, to avoid crossing paths with Hobbs." 

Thranduil glanced up to see Owen putting cash down onto their table, more than enough to cover the small meal and a tip. Owen gestured at him, still on his own cellular phone, and Thranduil nodded. Together, they walked out of the café, while assuring their respective callers that they would be getting to the tarmac as soon as possible. 

They didn't need to go to the hotel; they could have kept walking and hailed a cab to take them away. However, Owen wanted to wipe any traces of them from the suite and Thranduil agreed with that instinct. He did not want to leave any evidence of an elf's existence in the hotel. He had left the shed hair from his brush in the garbage and he knew it could be seen as paranoid but he wanted to flush it to keep Hobbs from locating it. 

Hand in hand, they hurried through the streets and into the hotel. When they got to their room, Owen simply told him to bag all of their trash and he would wipe the surfaces down with a cloth from the bathroom. Together, they worked quickly. Thranduil finished his job first, so he focused on bagging their few possessions. He threw his possessions into Owen's duffel bag, too, and when Owen was finished, they shared a quick kiss before rushing out of the room again. 

"What about checking out?" Thranduil asked, as they took a set of stairs down to the ground floor. "What about the copy of your passport the front desk has on file?" 

Owen shook his head. "They'll charge the credit card. And it's an alias I can afford to lose." 

"Are you sure?"

"Very. Let's go," he said, before tugging Thranduil through an open door. 

They ended up in a hallway, but Owen seemed to know where he was going. He took Thranduil outside, into a parking lot, and hurried to a car Thranduil never thought Owen would even consider driving. It looked to be falling apart, but Owen was able to unlock the doors and get it started with minimal fuss, so Thranduil assumed that was why he had chosen it. 

"They'll be looking for this car when they realise it's been stolen," Thranduil commented. 

Owen grinned as he pulled out of the lot and onto a street. "Yes, which is why we're leaving it at the train station. We'll take a cab to the airport." 

Thranduil nodded. They drove past the front of the hotel, just as two military-styled vehicles parked in front of it. Thranduil caught a glimpse of Hobbs; he heard Owen curse under his breath and assumed that he'd seen Hobbs, too. 

"Cutting it close," Owen muttered. "Thank heavens for Vegh and Ivory, huh?" 

"I'm sorry---"

"Not your fault," Owen insisted. 

Thranduil frowned. "But, we stayed because you wanted to show me---"

Owen shook his head and cut him off before more could be said. "I knew the risks. You're worth a little danger." 

Thranduil huffed. "Owen! Hobbs nearly caught up to us! This is serious!" 

"He doesn't know where we live, and he will not catch up to us," Owen assured him. "I'm not bragging, well, maybe I am, but between the two of us, we're quite good at staying out of trouble. We'll get home." 

Thranduil knew Owen spoke the truth. He'd unknowingly evaded capture and torture for years, and he'd continue to do so if Owen remained determined to keep them both safe and free. Still, the fact that Hobbs and Fuentes had come so close to Owen, to them, made him uneasy. 

"Will you install some sort of security system in my flat?" Thranduil asked. 

"Sure, if that will help keep you feeling safe. I'll have Ivory and Vegh map out a system for you," Owen said, as he reached across the centre console and took Thranduil's hand in his. 

As he squeezed Owen's hand, Thranduil nodded. "If they caught an image of me, too, then it would be wise to have some sort of warning system." 

"I agree," Owen said, "but, you know, I'm hoping you end up spending more time with me than alone in your flat." 

A smile curved Thranduil's lips. "Yes, well, I'll have a lot more free time on my hands now that I'm not teaching archery." 

Owen chuckled. "Good. I'll keep you busy. We'll take a few days off, then make our plans for the future. Adolfson and Oakes will go on their op soon, so if they find the military base, we should have more intel to work from." 

"I will inform Tauriel when we're safe and ready to proceed," Thranduil agreed, as he turned his head so he could look out of the window. 

Nothing seemed out of sorts for the rest of their drive. They abandoned the car in the train station parking lot, and Owen hired a car to take them to their final destination. In the backseat, alone, Owen pulled Thranduil close. The elf welcomed the contact, glad that they had managed to elude their opponent and that Owen was on guard, and he closed his eyes. 

"It's a short drive, love," Owen warned, "so don't fall asleep." 

"I'm resting my eyes," Thranduil insisted. 

Owen laughed softly, as he brought his hand up to stroke over Thranduil's cheek. They didn't say anything else until they arrived at the airport, at the commercial loading area, and then it was only what was required of them to be granted access to the area by its officials. Owen handled their passports, but before they got on the plane, he handed them back to Thranduil to keep in the pouch he'd started to keep strapped to his body since the mission began. 

"Come on," Owen murmured. "These guys do good work. They'll get us out. Hobbs hasn't even found the car yet, I'm betting." 

Thranduil nodded. He followed Owen into the pressurised area of the plane, where someone belonging to the shipping crew showed them to benches where they could sit. 

"Customs will inspect the cargo when we land," the man said in an accent Thranduil couldn't place. "Compartment fifteen will hide you from them. No drugs?" 

"No drugs, you know me, Leo," Owen assured him. "Thanks, man. I'll send the payment to you as soon as we land." 

Those words seemed to placate Leo, who nodded and left them to get settled. Owen showed Thranduil how to secure himself to the bench seats, and by the time they were strapped in, the plane was already taxiing towards the runway. 

Owen appeared perfectly at ease with the roughness of the flight, but Thranduil struggled as soon as the plane took to the air. It was jarring and loud and unlike any flight he'd ever taken. He tried to rest, but closing his eyes seemed to affect his stomach, and the thought of being awake to endure the whole flight was an agonising prospect. 

At first, Owen didn't say or do anything to draw attention to Thranduil's discomfort. But when the plane levelled out, he unbuckled himself and slid to the floor between Thranduil's legs. 

"What are you---"

Owen smirked and worked at the seat belt and the fastenings on Thranduil's trousers. Thranduil was torn between scolding him---as someone could come in and see them, couldn't they?---and helping him. Owen worked too quickly for Thranduil to decide on a course of action; he tugged on Thranduil's clothing until he was adequately exposed for what the man intended to do and then he dove into the task with enthusiasm. 

He licked and nuzzled and nipped at Thranduil's hip and abdomen before kissing a path down his cock. In its flacid state, Owen guided it into his mouth and suckled on as much as he could. Thranduil's reaction was slow, given that he was not enjoying their surroundings, but eventually arousal overrode the discomfort and he felt himself swell into Owen's mouth. Owen peeked up at him, a smile in his eyes; the expression took on a mischievous glint before Owen's hands joined his mouth. Owen rolled his balls between his fingers, squeezing with the amount of pressure that Thranduil preferred. 

When Owen pulled back his head and licked and sucked at his foreskin, Thranduil's eyes shut as his head slammed back against the plane's wall. 

"God, Owen... _ai_ , please, just---" 

Owen chuckled and took one of Thranduil's hands. He placed it on the back of his head a moment before he sucked Thranduil's erection back into his mouth. Thranduil, at first, only scratched and rubbed Owen's scalp; however, after a few minutes of pleasant torture, he started thrusting his hips and holding Owen's head in position. Owen responded by closing his eyes and sucking harder. Thranduil knew he was making quite a lot of noise but he doubted it could be heard over the racket of the plane. He moaned and whimpered; he yelped when Owen's hands slid under his shirt to tease his chest and stomach. 

He thought he was racing to climax, but just as it started to burn through him, Owen backed off and returned to licking and nuzzling. Thranduil cursed and groaned; Owen laughed softly and continued teasing Thranduil. 

"No need to rush," Owen murmured. "We have a long flight ahead of us." 

Thranduil muttered Sindarin curses under his breath. After what seemed like hours (but what wasn't quite that long), Owen returned to bobbing his head up and sucking vigorously. Thranduil tried to keep his hips still, but it wasn't long before he was moving with Owen. 

After a particularly sharp pinch to his nipples, Thranduil cried out and climaxed. Owen sucked him to completion, swallowing every last drop that erupted from him, and then he pulled back and started to help Thranduil put his clothing back together. 

Once redressed, Thranduil tugged him close. He kissed Owen deeply, not bothering to ease into the gesture, and when they parted, he smiled. 

"Thank you," he whispered. 

"Put your head in my lap and try to rest," Owen suggested as he returned to his seat. His voice was rougher than usual, and knowing the reason for that made Thranduil shiver. "If we need to buckle up again, I'll let you know." 

Thranduil nodded. It took some wriggling, but eventually he found a somewhat comfortable position on their bench. He laid his head down upon Owen's thighs; Owen brushed his fingers over Thranduil's temple and ear. 

"I know it's not first class, but it's the best way to get home undetected," he said. 

"I'll get used to it," Thranduil vowed. 

He did. He managed to drift off to sleep and when he woke up he felt less bothered by their method of travel; the edginess he'd been feeling since Vegh's call was fading. He stifled a yawn and looked around the cargo plane. Nothing had changed, except that Owen had fallen asleep. From his position in Owen's lap, he watched the man's face, relaxed and pleasant. He reached up and rubbed at Owen's chest before deciding to sit up and return the favour of acting as a pillow. 

Owen startled awake at Thranduil's guidance, but quickly smiled in thanks before taking him up on his offer. Thranduil watched him settle down, finding a comfortable position, and then he stroked his fingers over Owen's head and neck until the man was sleeping again. 

They remained like that for the rest of the journey, with Thranduil keeping watch, until the plane began to descend and Owen awoke at the slight tilt of their floor. He coughed and rubbed his eyes before accepting a kiss from Thranduil. 

"Good morning, love," he said. 

"Morning?" Thranduil chuckled, gesturing towards the darkness outside the windows. 

"Evening, then," Owen said with a grin. "We'll be arriving in Madrid any minute, looks like." 

Thranduil frowned. "Madrid?"

"Yeah, we'll either get a regular flight home or rent a car. We'll work it out after a night's sleep, alright?" Owen asked. 

"Sure... if that's what you want to do?" 

Owen smiled and squeezed Thranduil's hand. "We'll have some food, touch base with Vegh and Ivory, and go from there," he decided. 

When Thranduil nodded, he nodded. Then, they prepared for the landing. As soon as the plane hit the ground and slowed its speed, Owen stood up and searched for the compartment that Leo brought to their attention. He helped Thranduil get inside before joining him, and that was where they waited until Leo came to get them. There seemed to be no problems, and for that, Thranduil was glad; however, he wished they didn't have to hide like that to avoid trouble. 

"That was ridiculous," Thranduil muttered as he emerged from a crate of what seemed to be fur coats. "Comfortable, but ridiculous." 

Owen laughed and picked up his duffel bag. "I know," he agreed. "But it was necessary. Wouldn't do for our old aliases to pop up on a flight manifest somewhere." 

"Can't make it easy for Hobbs, can you?" Thranduil said. 

"Nope."

Thranduil smirked and followed him across the tarmac and to a car that Owen seemed to think was theirs for the taking. He opened the driver's side door, found the keys, and explained that Vegh had planned to have it available for them. 

"Why don't we just drive home?" Thranduil suggested. "Let's take tonight, and then we'll set out first thing in the morning." 

Owen grinned. "Sounds great, love. You know I love long drives with you at my side." 

Thranduil grinned back at him. He felt better, with the flight over and a considerable amount of distance between them and Hobbs, and the promise of a long drive with Owen at his side helped him feel almost content. 

"What are you in the mood to eat tonight?" Owen asked him. 

"Room service," Thranduil decided. "I have a favour to return." 

Owen's laughter tipped his mood over the edge. Happiness was spreading through him, warming him from the inside, as Thranduil watched Owen express his delight. He was struck by the notion that, depsite life's ups and downs, he was at the beginning of an incredibly journey with the man at his side. Beyond that and the fact that they were out of Hobbs' clutches, he'd learned that some of his guards and members of his court still lived; he'd been given a chance to reconnect with his daughter, to repair the hurt between them, and he was going to take that chance and find her. Instead of worrying about all the things that could go wrong, he felt free and excited and _hopeful_ \---not invincible but the closest to it in a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that! (For now.) 
> 
> I'm sorry for taking so long to get around to finishing this story. Writer's block, man. I have some of the next story scribbled out, so hopefully I'll be able to pick at it through the week and get a bit more done---and keep the delay for the next instalment shorter than it was this time. *fings crossed*


End file.
